


An Expense of Spirit in a Waste of Shame

by MildredMost



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blackmail, Brother/Brother Incest, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Photography, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest, Smarm, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildredMost/pseuds/MildredMost
Summary: Or "The Sad Victorian Brothers"Struggling to survive in Victorian London, brothers Nick and John hatch a plan to make some money. But their attempt to blackmail Nick's employer goes wrong in a very unexpected way.(this is mostly nothing but quite silly porn. Should update twice a week)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 43





	1. The brothers make a plan

John pushed open the door to the boarding house, and was met by the smell of boiled cabbage. He glanced up to the door of his room. It was lying open.

He took the stairs two at a time.

“Nick?” he said, voice louder than he had meant it to be from sheer panic. “Nick, you there?” Legs screaming with the effort, he stumbled through the doorway.

The room had been destroyed. Furniture overturned and broken, even the wash bowl smashed. John saw Nick at last, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, clutching his knees. He looked up at John, his eyes full of tears.

“They got the lot, Johnnie. Followed me home from work,” he said. His bottom lip was split.

 _God damn and fuck it_ John thought as he fell to his knees by his younger brother and took him in his arms. It had been payday at last and they’d been looking forward to some simple pleasures after making their debt payment - clean clothes, a hot meal. John hadn’t eaten in more than a day.

The debt collectors had other ideas it seemed. He took out his pocket handkerchief and wiped Nick’s eyes gently with it, before pressing it to his trembling mouth to stem the blood. Nick slid his arm around John and buried his face against his brother’s chest.

“What are we to do now?” he whispered.

“Not to worry darling,” Johnnie said, stroking the nape of his brother’s neck. “We’ve never starved yet. Something will come up, you can rely upon it.” Though John knew the likelihood of that something not being begging, theft or whoring had departed with Nick’s pay-packet.

This was all John's fault of course. If only he'd not wrenched his shoulder out of its place lifting crates at the warehouse, and if only he'd not tried to save money by going to that drunken fucking sawbones to put it right. Now he could barely lift his arm and Nick had been forced to try and support them both.

“I could perhaps ask Mr Sanderson,” Nick said, speaking of his employer at the shipping company he clerked at. “He has taken a liking to me.”

“Taken a liking to you in what way?” John said sharply.

“He...he said he wanted a kiss from me,” Nick said in a rush. “I think he’s like you, Johnnie. He likes boys.”

That John preferred to be with men than women was no secret between the brothers. But John found himself shocked that someone was showing interest in Nick in such a way.

"Has Mr Sanderson done anything like this before?" he asked.

Nick looked up at him, wounded brown eyes peering through a tangle of hair. Needed cutting, not that they'd any money for a barber.

"Not really. He likes me to bring him his afternoon tea." Nick stopped and looked down.

"What else?" John said.

"Sometimes he asks me to polish up his shoes."

"He takes off his shoes?"

"No, he keeps them on," Nick said in a small voice. "But I don't mind."

John's mind flashed up a vision of his brother kneeling in front of this man, his handsome face flushed up the way it did when he concentrated. How fucking dare he use his brother like that.

"So today was different?" John said. Nick nodded.

"I thought he was only in jest at first," Nick said. "he said ‘hop on my lap and I'll give you a shilling. Kiss me, I'll give you half a guinea’."

"But you didn't?"

Nick shook his head. "Just his lap."

"And you give him his tea at the same time every day?" John said.

"Three o'clock. It's when the head clerk takes his tea too, so we're always alone."

A small glimmer of a plan began to form in John's mind. But could John ask him to do this? He looked at his brother. He could see the grime around Nick's collar and thought grimly of their unpaid laundry bill. Nick couldn't go to the City much longer in the collar and linens he had. They only had a sliver of shaving soap left, no coal for the fire, nor money for a public bath, and their one razor blade was dull as a butter knife. Nick would get the sack for his appearance before long in any case, if they didn't do something. And by fucking god, he was hungry.

"Nick my love," John said, petting Nick's tousled head. "You think tomorrow you could persuade him to that kiss?"

Nick stilled, cheek still pressed warmly against John's chest. "Why Johnnie?" he whispered. "It's wicked, isn't it?"

"Blackmail's why. You do your bit, and I only need to discover you." John said. "And _he's_ the wicked one."


	2. The best laid plans

John shivered as he stood beneath the window outside the Sanderson Shipping Co. waiting for Nick to give him the signal. He was to pause by the window and place his hand against the pane just before taking Mr Sanderson’s tea into his office.

Thank god the fog of yesterday had receded, or he wouldn’t have been able to see the window at all, even from this distance. Still it was miserable enough to his starved body to be standing there in the December chill for so long, especially as he’d long since pawned his coat.

A movement at the window at last, and yes - there was Nicholas. He caught a glimpse of his brother’s slim figure and saw the heat of his hand leave a mark against the cold glass. John’s heart began to thump. Three o’ clock precisely; the bells at St Paul’s were ringing out to confirm it. He would wait another minute. Then head up, shoulders back he told himself. Walk through that office as though you’ve a right to. No one will stop you.

He pushed through the heavy front door, and before he could second guess himself, pulled open the door which had ‘shipping clerks’ inked across the glass. The room was bustling, and no one spared a glance for John as he walked purposefully down the room. He pushed through the door at the other end, past the Head Clerk’s desk which was empty, and then he was in the hallway opposite the office itself.

The door was firmly closed, and John silently pressed himself up against it, straining to hear anything from inside. He heard a low chuckle, so deep it could only be Mr Sanderson, and then Nicholas saying something in response. A scrape of a chair on the wooden floor, more low conversation, and then - silence.

Taking a breath, John threw the door open as hard as he could.

Nicholas was in the lap of one of the tallest men John thought he’d ever seen. The man had a hand gripped in Nicholas’s hair and two fingers jammed into his mouth, and Nicholas was sucking on them, his full lips flushed and wet. John felt a rush of arousal at the sight and stumbled over his words.

“H-how dare you, sir!” he said. “What are you doing there? Let my brother go at once!”

Nicholas gave a shout of pain as Mr Sanderson yanked his head back by the hair and threw him off his lap. He stood, and Christ he wasn’t just tall - everything about him from the deep chest to the powerful shoulders was huge and intimidating. He moved towards John, fierce blue eyes fixed upon him, and caught up an opera cane as he did. John couldn’t help but take a stumbling step backwards.

“Who the fuck might you be?” he said, and it took everything John had not to cut and run. He and Nick hadn’t come this far as orphans without knowing who to run from and who could be trusted, and this man set every instinct in John’s body flaring to ‘danger’. Yet he couldn’t give up.

“I came to see my brother sir. And then I find you...you violating his person. I won’t stand for it!”

“What you saw was a little slut who’d been begging for favour,” Mr Sanderson said, advancing on John again. John, shaking with adrenaline stepped backwards again, and his back hit the wall. Mr Sanderson raised his cane. “I suppose you planned this out.”

“I’m going to call for a policeman,” John said, his chest heaving. “I’m going to tell him what I saw.”

“And who do you think they’d believe?” Mr Sanderson said, his voice quietly dangerous. “Me, or the little Mary-Ann there?”

Nicholas was standing looking close to tears, his arms wrapped around himself.

“Leave it Johnnie,” he said. “Please.”

“You give us some money, we’ll say no more about it,” John said desperately.

“Oh I think we both know that won’t be happening,” Mr Sanderson said, almost pleasantly, and drove his cane into John’s shoulder joint, pinning him to the wall.

It was his bad shoulder. The pain was so searing that he couldn’t even cry out, he could only gasp wordlessly and try to fight back the blackness of the faint that threatened. But the agony was too much and the ringing in his ears was the last thing he heard before unconsciousness took him.

“...wrong with him? I barely touched him,” Mr Sanderson was saying as John swam up from the darkness of his faint.

“Tis his bad shoulder sir. He wrenched it out at work. The doctor put it back wrong. He can’t work and we’ve no money to fix it.” Nick had John’s head cradled in his lap. “And he’s half starved.”

“But you earn a decent wage. Why have you come to this pass? Are you intemperate? A gambler?” Mr Sanderson said.

“Neither sir, but our mother was both,” Nick said. “We have had some debts to discharge.”

John opened his eyes, but neither Mr Sanderson nor Nick were looking at him. Mr Sanderson was deep in thought, leaning against the desk. John took a moment to look at him, taking in his dark beard sprinkled with grey, the perfectly tailored suit, the expensive gold cufflinks - and the hint of menace that all the grooming in the world could not quite hide. No wonder Nick had been roused by him.

“Who holds the debts?” Mr Sanderson said at last. John sat up.

Nick gave him the name. “Oh very well, I know him,” Mr Sanderson said. He prodded John with the cane. “You. Up.”

John got shakily to his feet.

“I am going to make you a bargain,” Mr Sanderson said. He smiled at them then, and John felt a terrified shiver run down his back.

“If it wasn’t for Nicholas here, I’d have my Head Clerk turn you over to the police,” he said to John. “But this will work better for us all. I will purchase your debts. You will visit my doctor tomorrow and he will set things to rights. Take this,” he reached into a pocket of his coat and pulled out some folded bills. “Pay the doctor. Eat. Sleep. And for Christ’s sake wash. And then I shall expect you to attend my office, with your brother, every evening next week, to discharge your debt to me. I shall expect you to work hard for it, and I will require complete obedience.”

Oh sweet Jesus, John thought. What had he done?

“What’s the work to be, sir?” Nicholas asked innocently. Mr Sanderson turned to him, sliding a hand around the back of Nick’s neck and tugging him so that he lost his balance and ended fully flush against Mr Sanderson’s body.

“Oh I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that,” Mr Sanderson said, letting his hands roam all over Nick who let out a small shocked sound. “I’ve thought about that ever since Mr Michaels first sent you in with my tea all those months ago. Those sad eyes and that pretty mouth of yours. So eager to please.” Nicholas closed his eyes, his breath coming fast and a slow blush spreading up his neck to his cheeks. “Yes, I can think of many delightful ways you can work for me. But you must return to your desk for the moment.”

He looked over at John. “Go on then,” he said mildly. “Get out. And next time I see you, try to look less like a crossing sweeper.”


	3. The first payment

The next two days were the most comfortable John and Nicholas had had in months. 

John visited Mr Sanderson’s doctor as instructed, who took one look at him and called in his assistant. Together they pulled John’s shoulder back out of joint and pushed it back in again, which was so disgustingly painful that John was sick afterwards, but it had worked like a dream. He could move his arm again. He could pay the laundry bill at last, and they had clean clothing and sheets for their bed. There was coal in the scuttle and tea in the tin, and John had paid their landlady the stipend she required to provide them with hot suppers. They had bathed, scrubbed and shaved, and had their hair cut. They’d eaten meat pies fragrant with gravy and herbs. It felt like living again.

John reclined on the freshly made bed and watched Nicholas wash in the tin bath before the fire. It was quite hypnotic to watch him pour the water jug over himself and see the soapy water sliding over the lean muscle of his chest, his head thrown back and mouth open in relaxed pleasure. He thought of that mouth around Mr Sanderson’s fingers and felt his body stir. Nicholas shook the water out of his eyes and grinned at John.

“We’re living like princes are we not?” he said. “I know we must earn it back, but it’s hard to think it will be so bad.”

“We begin tomorrow,” John said, and his stomach clenched in anticipation. “Hurry up and come to bed, you’ll need plenty rest.”

Nicholas stood up and reached for the drying sheet, body sculpted and golden in the firelight. John looked away quickly. He fiddled with the candle by the bed instead until he felt the dip and rock of the mattress as Nicholas got under the blanket with him and felt safe to look up again.

“Johnnie,” Nicholas said, tangling his legs through John’s. He slept better that way, he claimed. “You know that I’ve never…”

“Never…?”

“Been with someone. That way. And you have.”

John had. He’d brought men back to their room a couple of times, and Nicholas would have to sit just outside the door and wait to be let back in. He hadn't ever discussed it with his brother after, though sometimes John wondered what Nick made of what he heard. 

He snuffed the candles and lay back down in the darkness not sure what to say. Nicholas buried his head into John’s bad shoulder and John took a moment to relish that the action caused him no pain.

“Will it hurt?” Nicholas said.

“It doesn’t have to,” John said, ignoring the fact that Mr Sanderson was probably both enormous and very unlikely to care that anyone was in pain. “You can ready yourself.”

Nicholas gave a wriggle. “With oil. I know. But...it can be nice?”

“It can be wonderful,” John said. His cock hardened a little at the thought. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not,” Nicholas said, a slight laugh in his voice. He paused for a long time. “May I ask you anything Johnnie?” he said.

“Of course,” John said. Didn’t mean he’d have to answer.

“Have you ever...has it ever been part of your bedplay to, to pretend at being forced?”

“How do you know about such things?” John said.

“Only from a book. And...the clerks at work, they had some photographs they had me look at.”

“Oh,” said John, feeling a spark of anger at the clerks. “I had a lover once who liked to play at that. I enjoyed it well enough.”

“I think I would enjoy it a great deal,” whispered Nicholas, almost to himself, before rolling onto his side and falling asleep.

John dozed for a while as the fire died down and slept at last as the room fell completely dark. He was brought back to consciousness by the awareness that Nicholas was moving beside him.

John had heard him self-pleasure before of course, they’d shared a bed long enough. He lay still and breathed deeply as though asleep, his whole body aware that Nick was tugging his cock with one hand and...a rustle of clothing...pinching his own nipples to bring himself off. He wondered who Nick thought of - Sanderson, no doubt, with those powerful thighs and terrifying eyes. 

Nick’s breath was coming harder now, but he seemed not quite able to reach completion. John could not resist. He gave a stir as though only moving in his sleep and turned and dropped a hand onto Nick’s bare hip. In moments Nick gave a shudder and gasp and spent into his hand. John turned onto his side as Nick got out of bed to clean up, hard as iron himself by now. He ignored it; it would pass, as it always did. 

Monday evening seemed to both take forever to arrive, and yet come all too soon. 

Nick had set off to work looking so neat and tidy and well scrubbed that John wondered how Sanderson would resist him until that evening. 

But at last the time came. John - neat and combed, in his great-coat purchased back from the pawn shop - knocked on Mr Sanderson’s office door at 5 o'clock precisely. Nicholas answered the door, face flushed with nerves, and after letting John in, he returned to where he had been sitting at Sanderson’s feet.

Sanderson was in his shirt sleeves, sitting relaxed in his chair. The curtains were drawn and the fire was banked, and he had clearly been enjoying a brandy just before John had arrived.

He looked up at John. “Punctual,” he remarked. “You look a damned sight better too. Almost as pretty as this one here.” He nudged Nick with a foot. John looked at Nick, who did look beautiful, if very nervous.

“Don’t you agree?” Sanderson said, teasingly. “Don’t you find him pretty?”

“I…” John couldn’t work out what game Sanderson was playing. He decided to tell the truth. “I do. He is.”

Nicholas looked up at him, startled but pleased.

“That make you happy, does it?” Sanderson said. “That big brother finds you pleasing?” Nick looked at him in confusion. “Let’s see if we can please him more.”

Sanderson looked over at John again. “To business. Your debt will be paid in hourly instalments. When the clock there strikes six, you will both be free to go, if you have behaved well.” John’s eyes flicked to the clock. Only five minutes of the hour had passed.

“Let's get on then. Undress him,” Sanderson ordered John.

John froze. He looked at Nick, then back to Sanderson.

“Are you going to be difficult?” Sanderson snapped.

John half stumbled across the room, crouching down beside Nick. Nick began helping him to unbutton his waistcoat, but earned himself a hard tug of his hair. “I didn’t say you should help,” Sanderson said.

Nick let his hands drop to his sides, and knelt passively as John slid the waistcoat off and began on his shirt. He untied the neckcloth and went to cast it aside, but Sanderson said “give me that,” and he handed it over. The shirt followed the waistcoat, and then the undershirt, leaving Nicholas’s chest bare. Sanderson looked him over, a small smile on his face. “Starving hasn’t hurt you much, has it?” he said. Nick didn’t answer.

John undid the fall of Nick’s trousers, and slid them as far off as he could without help from Nick. Sanderson gave a nod to Nick’s questioning gaze, and Nick stood and wriggled them off.

Only the small-clothes remained. John’s hands trembled as he fumbled with the ties.

“Open the ties. A little wider. Good,” Sanderson said. John’s knuckles grazed Nick’s abdomen, and saw Nick jump at the contact. John paused.

“Now draw him out,” Sanderson said. “Just his cock.”

John could see Nick’s chest heaving, and saw his hands clenching by his sides. Blood flooding to his cheeks in shame and arousal, he slid his hand beneath the small clothes and wrapped his fingers around Nick’s soft cock. Nick made a small sound and John felt his cock perk up in his hand. He drew it out and let go, and it bounced, semi-erect. Nick wasn’t big at all - in fact John was significantly bigger - but this didn’t seem to bother Sanderson a whit.

“Look at me,” he said to Nick and Nick looked up at him, his lips apart.

“Did that feel pleasant?” Sanderson said. “Your brother’s hand on your piece? It certainly seems interested.”

John felt a strange swooping sensation in his stomach that this might be true. It couldn’t be of course - it was just the game Sanderson was playing with them that made it seem so.

Nick swallowed, his cock hardening further.

“Well there’s my answer,” Sanderson said. “Good lord, you’re perfectly deviant. Oh no, I don’t think so…” he snatched at Nicholas’s wrist, who’d made a motion to cover himself. “That’s for me to look at. Hands behind your back.”

Nicholas did as he was told. In this position he seemed absolutely exposed, and Sanderson circled him slowly, touching. He gave the small cock a pull, and released it, before rolling his balls in his hand and letting them go.

“Brother dear, tie his hands behind him. As we can’t trust him to behave.”

Sanderson handed John the neckcloth. John took hold of Nick’s wrists and crossed them gently, trying to ignore his own cock, ramrod hard in his trousers. “Tell me if I make it too tight,” he murmured to Nick as he wound the cloth around him. Nick only made a whimpering sound, his breath coming faster than ever.

“Good,” Sanderson said. “And now his drawers.” John knelt and tugged at the smallclothes. Nick tried to lift his leg to help but got off balance and John grabbed a hip to steady him, Nick’s erection brushing against his cheek.

“Sorry Johnnie,” Nick whispered, mortified. John shook his head. You have nothing to be sorry for, he wanted to say, as he removed Nick’s last item of clothing.

“Now you, sit there,” Sanderson said to John, indicating the settle. “I’m going to use your brother’s mouth, and you can watch. If you move, you’ll be punished. Clear? And no looking away. I want you to tell him how well he’s doing.”

John didn’t want to sit. He wanted to run over and cover his brother up in warm blankets, to transport him back to the safety of their room, to sit him by the fire and kiss his cheek and take care of him. But that safety was of course an illusion. It would all disappear again as soon as Sanderson called in their debt, and they would be worse off than when they started.

John sat down on the settle. _Only an hour_ he told himself.

Sanderson turned to Nick.

“Kneel down. Spread your legs. A little more. Believe me, you’ll need the balance,” Sanderson said. He bent over Nick, crooking a finger under his chin. “I’ll take one of your sweet little kisses first though. Before I ruin your mouth.”

Nick stared up at Sanderson like a rabbit caught in the light of a gig lamp. His small, flushed cock was hard up against his belly, and his chest was moving as though he’d just run a race. Eyelashes fluttering closed, he knelt up as high as he could, and pressed his mouth to Sanderson’s. Sanderson curled his fingers under Nick’s jaw, tilting his head and deepening the kiss, and John heard Nick’s moan as Sanderson pushed his tongue into Nick’s mouth, his hands clenching in their bonds behind him. John tried desperately to concentrate his gaze on Sanderson alone, but his eyes were drawn again and again to the soft curve of Nick’s arse, the lean muscles of his thighs, and the way his nipples and cock stood erect and begging for attention.

Sanderson broke away gently with a final caress to Nick’s cheek. Then both brothers watched as he yanked down the fall of his trousers, and drew himself out.

He was huge. Bigger than even John had anticipated. Not just long but thick too, and fully hard, as Sanderson ran his hand from root to tip. Nick shot John a panicked look, and John dug his nails into the settle to prevent himself from leaping up and taking Nick’s place. How could Sanderson expect Nick to take something that size when he’d never had a cock in his mouth before? The man was a fucking sadist.

“Sir?” Nick said, which was as close as he could come to saying please, no.

Sanderson grabbed a handful of Nick’s hair and dragged him forward. “Lick it,” he said.

No, John wasn’t having this.

“Sir,” he said, standing. “Oh please, sir.” He knew he wasn’t quite as appealing as his brother, but he had a sight more idea about seduction. Sanderson glared at him.

“Good lord, can neither of you follow a simple instruction?” he said. “What did I say about getting up?”

“But,” John said, gazing at Sanderson’s cock and wetting his lips, then looking back up at Sanderson. “Can’t I? You said we both had to work for the money. I want to work.”

Sanderson stared at him for a moment, then the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile.

“Quite the little actor, aren’t you? Let’s see if you can keep that enthusiasm up. Come here.”

John crossed the room to them. Nick was looking up at him, breathing hard, his erection flagging.

Sanderson took hold of John by the chin and looked at him. “There’s still half an hour left. Do you think you can distract me from your brother for that long?”

John lowered his lashes coyly then looked back up at him. “I’d like to try,” he said.

“You’re a handsome creature with the grime washed off aren’t you? And not as innocent as your brother, I’ll wager. Very well - untie him and undress yourself,” Sanderson said.

John went straight for Nick, unwinding the ties around his wrists. He took the opportunity to take Nick’s hands and hold them for a moment, squeezing them reassuringly. He almost dropped a kiss to the nape of Nick’s neck the way he often did at bedtime, but thought Sanderson might remark upon it.

He knelt down when he was finished, his hands behind his back. He had never been more aware of his brother, who had inched back out of Sanderson’s sight line, his back against the wall.

“Bigger than your brother, aren’t you?” Sanderson said, looking him over. “Let’s see if you can keep your hands away without being restrained.”

Sanderson caressed the back of John's head before wrapping his fingers painfully in John's hair. “Lick it,” he instructed, holding his cock and pointing it at John.

“Properly,” he added, as John lapped at it. “Start down here,” he pushed John’s face down into the curls at the root of his cock. “All the way to the top. Well done. Now again. And keep your eyes on me.”

John obliged, his eyes never leaving Sanderson. He licked and licked again, root to tip, and around the head as instructed. John could feel his own cock wet and hard against his stomach.

“Now take it in your mouth.”

Sanderson sounded indifferent, but John could sense his growing excitement. John opened his mouth and sucked the tip in.

“Good,” Sanderson breathed. “Take more.”

John pressed forward, widening his mouth.

Sanderson hauled him back by the hair. “Tongue out,” he said. “There we are.” He pushed back inside, deeper now. John swallowed desperately, eyes beginning to tear up. Nicholas pressed back closer to the wall, arms around his bare legs, but eyes huge and riveted to the thick cock being pushed inside his brother.

Sanderson stroked a hand down John’s throat, squeezing a little for a moment before moving his hand up to hold John’s jaw. He tilted John’s head forward and his cock popped into the back of John’s throat.

John gagged and then gagged again, wrenching his mouth away. He panted, wiping at his mouth, his stomach heaving. Sanderson grabbed him by the hair and shook him, almost unbalancing him.

“You took your mouth away,” he said. “Sit back. Hands behind you.”

John did, blinking tears from his eyes.

“Spread your legs. That’s it.” Sanderson took the wooden rule from his desk and whacked John hard across his cock and balls with it. John shouted with pain, and tried to close his legs. He heard Nick’s sound of horror somewhere behind him.

“Keep them apart,” Sanderson said. “One more.” He brought the ruler down on him again, and John bit his lip to stop a scream - he didn’t want to frighten Nick any more than that he already was.

“Now,” said Sanderson. “No more dropping cock. Open up.” John opened his mouth and the assault began again.

“Such a hungry little slut,” Sanderson said conversationally. John moaned, closing his eyes and earned himself a sharp slap. “Open your eyes or I’ll open them for you. Can’t think why you haven’t been paying your debts this way all along. Christ, that’s the way. Take it down.”

“You’re choking him,” Nick cried out. “Sir, please.”

“He’s enjoying it,” Sanderson said. He nudged John’s erection with his foot and John felt his cock jerk upright, pearling with pre-come. Sanderson chuckled.

It seemed to go on forever. Every time John managed to swallow the cock to a point where he could manage it, Sanderson seemed to take great delight in withdrawing it just enough to set him retching again. If only John’s enjoyment of this rough treatment wasn’t so stridently on display Sanderson might have been prevailed on to stop, though John doubted it. He concentrated on breathing through his nose and keeping his eyes on Sanderson, even though he could barely see him through the tears caught in his lashes. John heard the clock chime the quarter hour, and so did Sanderson, who paused to withdraw his cock and slap it against John's face, forcing John to chase it so he could swallow it down again. This amused Sanderson, who did it again, painting John's flushed face with spit and pre-come before easing back into his throat.

“Going to spill,” Sanderson said suddenly, both hands forcing John’s head down to the root of his cock. John tried to will himself not to struggle, but his body reacted before his mind did and he scrabbled helplessly at Sanderson’s thighs with his hands. Sanderson only grunted and fucked his mouth harder, squeezing on his throat, and at this John climaxed, unexpectedly and humiliatingly, all over the floor.

“Fuck, you’re…fuck,” Sanderson groaned, losing his composure at last. He pulled his cock back and spent himself on John’s tongue so that it dripped from John’s mouth onto his chest. Sanderson stepped back, panting.

“Swallow that, and then clean me up,” he ordered and John complied as well as he could for the trembling which had overtaken him. “Nicholas, come here and clean up your brother’s mess.”

Nick pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his coat.

“With your tongue you little fool,” Sanderson said almost affectionately. He fastened himself away and grabbed a handful of Nick’s hair, guiding him. “Quickly now.”

John sat quietly, waiting for the shaking to subside enough for him to be able to dress himself. He watched his brother forced to lick up his spend as though in a dream - too exhausted to protest this humiliation on his brother’s behalf. Nick’s face was flushed red and his eyes were tearful, but he obediently lapped up every last drop on the parquet floor and then sat silently on his knees, waiting for his next instruction.

The clock struck the hour at last.

“My carriage is being brought round for you,” Mr Sanderson said as the chimes faded away. And sure enough, John could hear the sound of the carriage wheels and the horses hooves on the cobblestones below. “Dress yourselves and get out.”

With great effort, John stood and pulled his clothes on as best he could. Nicholas was faster to dress and came over to help him as his fumbled with buttons. At last they were both more or less respectable again.

“Good evening, sir,” Nicholas said as they made to leave.

Sanderson nodded at them. Then pouncing like a tiger, he pinned John against the wall. “You did better than I expected,” he said, caging John’s wrists in his hands and pressing a hard kiss to his mouth. John couldn’t move, his eyes wide. “But don’t think that this sluttish mouth can save your brother forever. I shall see you both tomorrow.” With a final hard bite to John’s lip, he shoved him away from him and threw open the door.

Nicholas slipped his hand into John’s as they descended the dark stair.


	4. Home comforts

Safe in the dark of Sanderson’s carriage, John wrapped Nick in his arms the way he’d been longing to throughout the whole ordeal.   
  
“He’s horrible,” Nick whispered, clinging tightly. “I thought he’d kill you. I didn’t know what to do.” He nestled his head against John’s chest.   
  
“I’m quite alright,” John said in a voice already becoming hoarse. “It looked worse than it felt I’m sure.”   
  
“What if he really hurts one of us next time?” Nick said.   
  
“I don’t think he’d risk that,” John said.   
  
“It’ll be me tomorrow,” Nicholas whispered. “Was almost me tonight. You cannot shield me again.”  
  
“We’ll see,” John whispered back, his lips against Nick’s soft hair. “We’re here,” he added.   
  
John winced as they alighted from the carriage. His knees hurt, his throat hurt, and his mouth felt bruised. The driver barely waited for them to slam the carriage door before he was off. John had been amazed he’d come this close to the Holborn rookery in any case - though their boarding house was more or less respectable, the sight of a fancy carriage like this one might prove a draw to the more notorious residents of the area.   
  
“Come on Johnnie,” Nick said. “Let’s get in.”  
  
Nick let John lean on him as they climbed the stairs, then left him sitting on a fireside chair and went to speak to their landlady.   
  
Within a half-hour there was hot water for a bath, two dishes of hot supper, and a bottle of ale each from their landlady’s personal supply. Mr Sanderson’s coin had bought them her good will, and Nicholas’s pretty face had done the rest.   
  
Nick had insisted that John get in the bath first. John lay there dreamily as Nick lit the candles and banked the fire with coal. What luxury.   
  
“Here, you must be starving,” Nick said, sitting on a stool beside the tin bathtub. “Shall I bring your supper to you?”   
  
“What is it?” John said, and then almost laughed at himself. How far they had come in a few days, from starvation to having an opinion on dinner.   
  
“Your favourite. Steak and kidney pudding,” Nick said with a pleased smile. “I put in the request for it this morning when Mrs Briggs was giving her order to the butcher’s boy.”  
  
He broke into the golden suet crust with a fork and speared a chunk of meat. “Here Johnnie,” he said, holding it out.   
  
John tipped his head forward, opening his lips to take the morsel. Nick watched him with satisfaction, a small smile on his face.   
  
“Thank you my love,” John said. Nick pinked up a little at the endearment, and dug the fork back into the pudding.   
  
John ate the delicious supper piece by piece from Nick’s fork. They spoke a little at first, then fell silent, Nick watching avidly as every crumb disappeared into John’s mouth.  
  
“Don’t I get the gravy too?” John said with a grin, feeling much more himself.   
  
“It won’t stay on the fork,” Nick said, frowning over the dish.   
  
“Then use your finger,” John said, half joking, stretching back in the warm water.   
  
“Here then,” Nick said, holding out his hand. John sat up, lips opening, and sucked Nick’s finger into his mouth.   
  
“Beautiful,” he sighed, licking a stray drop from his lip.   
  
“More?” Nick asked, looking at him intently.   
  
“Go on then,” John said.   
  
Nick held out his finger again and John dipped his head to take it into his mouth, curling his tongue under it to catch any drips. Nick’s own tongue came out to wet his lips.   
  
“You’re hungry,” John said. “Go and have yours.”  
  
“Your mouth looks swollen up,” Nick said. He reached out and pressed his thumb to John’s lower lip. “Does it hurt?”  
  
“Not much,” John said. “Don’t fuss Nick. Now eat up and you can get in here while it’s still warm.”  
  
“I’m not fussing,” said Nick, pouting a little and Johnnie snatched up Nick’s hand and kissed the palm.   
  
“I like you taking care of me,” he said and Nick’s face lit up again.   
  
John got out of the bath, luxuriating in the warm drying sheet that had been waiting by the fire. Nick, who had gobbled down his supper in short order, slipped into the bath after him.   
  
“Ohhhh,” he sighed. “It’s still so warm. I could sleep. Wash my hair for me, Johnnie?”  
  
John hadn’t done that for his brother in a while. Not since they were much younger. He pulled on his underclothes and sat down on the stool at the head of the bath. Placing a hand at either side of Nick’s jaw, he gently tilted his head back.   
  
“Hold still now,” he said, dipping an enamel jug into the water, and pouring it over Nick’s hair.   
  
Nick’s eyes closed and his mouth opened at the feel of the warm water pouring over him. John lathered the soap and began to rub the suds into Nick’s hair, the smell of sandalwood rising with the heat of the water. Nick sighed again with pleasure and arched up into John’s touch as John massaged his scalp.   
  
“Mmmm, just a little more. I’m sure it’s very dirty,” Nick said, a little tease in his voice. He’d had his ale and Mrs Briggs hadn’t palmed them off with the weak stuff either. It always made Nick more playful.   
  
“I’m sure it is - you’ve a terrible amount of it,” John said. “It must be like our father’s I suppose. Mother was plain old mouse brown, and mine’s the same.”  
  
“I wonder now and then, does he know of us,” Nick said. “Mother would talk of him sometimes in her cups.”  
  
John had his suspicions that whether their father knew of them or not, he wasn’t interested. He certainly had seen neither hide nor hair of him in his lifetime and his mother had been so distressed in her mind that it was unclear what had become of him at all. They didn’t even have a name for him.   
  
“Transported I’d wager,” he said to Nick. “Couldn’t come to us even if he wanted to.”  
  
He kneaded his fingers into Nick’s scalp again and Nick let out a tiny moan pleasure. John dipped the jug back into the water and began to rinse Nick’s pretty hair clean. Water ran over his face and down the lean muscle of his chest and he spluttered and wiped his face.   
  
“There, you’re done,” John said. “It’s clear I’d make a fine valet.”  
  
“Perhaps you should, once we’re finished being whores,” Nick said matter of factly and John spluttered.   
  
“Well you’ve not quite whored yet - just me,” he said. “Perhaps you won’t have to.”  
  
Nick was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. “Johnnie, you said it can be wonderful,” he said, tilting his head back and looking at John upside down. John absently noticed the droplets of water starred in Nick’s eyelashes, and the trickles which ran into the hollow of his throat.   
  
“What can be?” John asked distractedly.   
  
“To be...um. When you’re buggered,” Nick said, colouring up as he said the shocking word.   
  
John shook his head, chuckling. “You’ve had too much ale,” he said.   
  
“Mr Sanderson will have me tomorrow, we both know that,” Nick said.   
  
“You don’t know that he will,” John said, not sure if that sounded reassuring or not. God knew, there were enough other things a sadist like Sanderson could come up with. Being fucked by him was probably the most pleasant option.   
  
“I don’t mind,” Nick said. “But I don’t want it to hurt.”  
  
“Well he’s big,” John said. “So it’ll feel uncomfortable at the very least. But it needn’t be painful. You just need to prepare.”  
  
“With oil, I know. But how do I do that? Exactly?” Nick said softly, shifting a little in the water.   
  
“You’d, um…” for all that had passed that day, how could John still feel coy about discussing this? “You get the oil. Or something slippery like the petroleum jelly there,” he began. “Then you put it on your fingers - coat them, right up past the knuckle.”  
  
Nick’s breathing had changed, but he said nothing, just looked at John.   
  
“Then you’d rub the oil around your opening,” John said, not quite able to meet Nick’s eyes. He looked down at the bath instead. “And start to ease your finger in. One is easy. Second will take a bit longer.”  
  
John saw that Nick’s cock had begun to harden and felt his own fill too. Christ, he thought, and stood up abruptly, pretending to be making their bed ready.   
  
“Should I do it now?” Nick said, his voice thick. John turned to look at him. One arm was behind his head, and the other hand was beneath the water. His pale skin was rosy from the warmth and his head was tilted back, throat exposed, eyes dark and lips open. If ever there was a picture of a virgin waiting to be taken, then this was it. Sweet Jesus; that Sanderson had held off this long was a miracle.   
  
“No,” John said, and it came out like a plea. “Not now.”  
  
“Then in the morning,” Nick said. “Will you help make me ready?” His knees were apart and John couldn’t see the hand beneath the soap-clouded water, but Nick’s bicep was working as though his fingers were moving.   
  
“I can’t,” John said, his mouth dry and his cock so hard it almost hurt him. “Nick, I can’t. I’m your _brother_ …”  
  
“That’s why I can ask you,” Nick said, eyes wide. “You’ve always shown me how to do everything, Johnnie. Can’t you show me this too? Just so it won’t hurt. Please.”  
  
 _Ah, fuck._ “I’ll…” John took a breath. “I’m going to sleep. I’ll think about it.” Oh good Christ, how he would think about it. Nick parting his slim thighs for him. John sliding oiled fingers deep inside his brother, finding the spot that would make him moan in pleasure. Being the first to ever give him such enjoyment. He lay down, cock hard and leaking in his underwear, and uttered a silent prayer for control. What had Sanderson turned him into? He only hoped he could keep these dark thoughts inside and not taint his dear Nick with his perversity.


	5. A spanking

John slept badly, too aware of Nick lying beside him and of what lay before them the next day at the hands of Sanderson. Nick’s request rolled around and around in his head. It seemed so wrong, but then hadn’t they been naked before each other a thousand times? Shared a bed for as long as he could remember? There was nothing of the other that they hadn’t seen. But it seemed that touching Nick there, even if it was only to prepare him for another man, would cross a boundary that John was frightened to breach.   
  
In the end, he took the coward’s route and pretended to be asleep when Nick rose to prepare for work. He heard the splash of water as Nick washed his face, and peeping from beneath his lashes, he saw his brother take the jar of petroleum jelly from the mantle and look at it. Then Nick sighed and dressed instead, putting the jar into the pocket of his coat before he left.   
  
John spent his day setting their room to order, running some errands for the landlady and going back to the warehouse which had employed him previously to ask for work. The manager turned him away, saying that his weak shoulder was only another accident waiting to happen, and that he had a dozen other able-bodied men he’d rather employ.   
  
John mused over this on the way to Sanderson’s Shipping. So labouring was no longer an option - he had to be realistic. He hadn’t the skills to clerk as Nick did. Something else, then. Perhaps Sanderson would give them enough extra for him to buy a shoe shine kit. They’d only need a little capital for that. He could not allow them to get into such dire circumstances again.   
  
John arrived at Sanderson's premises just as the other clerks were putting their ledgers away and turning down the gas lamps. He passed through the room to Sanderson’s office, attracting one or two looks, but the head clerk nodded him through. Knocking on Sanderson's office door, he was admitted by his brother at once, who closed the door behind him and turned the key.   
  
Sanderson was sitting at his desk, eyeing them both coolly.

“Come and stand here, both of you,” he said, motioning to the space beside him. He had removed his coat, but otherwise remained fully dressed. He’d had a haircut, John noticed, and vaguely wondered how he’d managed to fit it in.   
  
“How is your mouth today?” Sanderson asked. He stood and went over to John.   
  
“It’s fine sir,” John said.   
  
Sanderson ran his thumb along John’s bottom lip, pressing at it. Then he forced his thumb further in between John’s teeth, pushing down on his tongue. John opened for him and let him examine, feeling his cock perk up in interest at the intrusion. He drew the thumb further into his mouth and sucked on it while he looked at Sanderson through his lashes. Sanderson smiled.   
  
“Very nice. But I think I’ve spend quite enough time on you for now,” he said, drawing his hand away. He turned to Nick. “You, on the other hand…”   
  
Sanderson Put his hands on Nick's waist and lifted him onto the desk as though he weighed nothing at all. Then pushing Nick’s legs apart, he cupped Nick’s face and began to kiss him.   
  
The kisses were gentle and insistent and John watched as his brother sank into them, eyes fluttering closed, lips parting, his hands holding tightly onto Sanderson’s sleeves. Sanderson moved his hand to the back of Nick’s head and deepened the kiss, pushing his body hard against Nick’s until Nick began to make tiny sounds of arousal.   
  
“Lovely,” Sanderson murmured against Nick’s mouth. “You’re terribly sweet, aren’t you?”   
  
Nick made no answer, only dreamily turning up his face for more. Sanderson obliged, beginning to slowly undress him as he did. Bit by bit Nick’s body was revealed, until he sat naked on the edge of the desk, Sanderson running his hands all over him. John was utterly forgotten, and who could blame him - Nick was a truly beautiful sight.   
  
“What’s this?” Sanderson said, suddenly, his thumbs spreading Nick’s arse.   
  
“I prepared sir,” Nick said softly.   
  
“And who gave you permission to do that?” Mr Sanderson said, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. Both boys flinched at the sudden change in mood.   
  
“No one, sir,” Nick said, looking up at Sanderson with frightened eyes.  
  
“Correct,” said Sanderson and John’s stomach turned over at the menace in his tone. “Let me make something quite clear. If I wish you to prepare yourself, I’ll tell you so. If I wish you to turn up oiled, or shaved or filled up with something of my choosing, _I’ll tell you so_. And you will obey me to the letter. Until then, don’t attempt to guess what I might want - you’re not very good at it.” Sanderson let go of Nick and sat down on his desk chair.   
  
“Come here,” he said. Nick obeyed mutely, hopping down from the desk. Taking Nick by the back of the neck, Sanderson forced him face down over his lap. “Hands on the floor. Your brother will assist.” Sanderson beckoned to John.   
  
“I know this preparation nonsense was one of your ideas,” he said. “I’d advise you to stop having them. And Nicholas needs to learn to stop blindly following whatever you tell him to do. Take this as a lesson for you both. Hold his hands down.”  
  
Nick was awkwardly stretched across Sanderson’s lap, his arse in the air, cock dangling between Sanderson’s knees and his feet not quite able to reach the floor. John knelt and placed his hands over Nick’s, giving them a reassuring squeeze as Nick struggled to balance himself.   
  
“You will hold this position until I instruct you otherwise, am I clear?” Sanderson said crisply.   
  
“Yes sir,” Nick said, his arms already trembling.   
  
John watched as Sanderson removed his heavy gold ring and placed it in his waistcoat pocket. Then he began.   
  
The first spank hit Nick with a loud crack, and he jumped, legs flailing. John could see the livid red outline of Sanderson’s hand on Nick’s creamy skin.   
  
“You will hold still,” Sanderson reminded Nick mildly, and brought his hand down again.   
  
Nick let out a shocked breath, arms straining.   
  
Sanderson sped up after that, his hand meeting Nick’s skin again and again with relentless precision. Nick began to cry out, biting his lips and panting to try and contain the sounds but utterly helpless to do so. He was finding it impossible to stay still, writhing desperately to escape the painful onslaught. John tried to keep his eyes fixed on the floor but could not stop himself glancing upwards now and again and catching a glimpse of how red and sore Nick’s backside had become.   
  
“You should see how his little arse jiggles when I hit it,” Sanderson said conversationally to John. “You must have kept him fairly well fed though you stinted yourself. Look at this.” John lifted his eyes from Nick’s red face and watched as Sanderson applied a volley of spanks to his brother. Nick moaned, his legs kicking out hopelessly. John felt his own face redden as he watch the way Nick’s sweetly rounded arse juddered under the assault. It was one of the most arousing things he’d ever seen. Sanderson seemed to think so too, slowing his spanks to allow himself to appreciate the sight, digging his fingers into the sore flesh and kneading it before spanking it again. On and on he went, hitting Nick’s upper thighs now as well as his arse, waiting sadistically for the hot sting of pain to hit before striking him again.   
  
The agonising pace was becoming too much for Nick. “ _Sir_ ,” he sobbed, arching up and trying to wrench his hands from John’s. “Please stop. I can’t.”  
  
“You will,” Sanderson said, and brought his hand down again, harder than before, and Nick screamed.   
  
He seemed to give up then. He lay prone across Sanderson’s knees sobbing as John clutched his hands tightly. His cock hung down, soft and small. It seemed this treatment was not the way to arouse Nick, however much it was driving John to distraction. Sanderson continued with his punishment for another dozen hits or so, holding him steady with one hand pressed hard onto Nick’s shaking back. And then it was done.   
  
“All over,” Sanderson said. He hauled Nick around to face him. “You’re not the slightest bit hard, are you?” he said, amused, looking at Nick’s flushed, tearstained face. He cupped a hand over Nick’s cock and balls and Nick flinched, chest heaving. “Just your brother who likes rough treatment then. Or likes to watch you suffer rough treatment. Get up, John.”  
  
John rose to his feet unsteadily.   
  
“Come here.”   
  
John inched forward. Sanderson reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, yanking him close to Nick.   
  
“Nicholas, unfasten your brother’s trousers. I want to see his cock.”  
  
 _No_ , John wanted to protest. But what would be the use? Sanderson would only punish him more - or more likely, punish Nick. He tried not to tear up in humiliation as he felt Nick’s tentative hands on him, unbuttoning him and pushing aside the fabric until John’s straining cock sprang free.   
  
“That’s what happens to your brother when he sees you in pain,” Sanderson said. “What do you think about that?”  
  
Nick was silent, only looking up at John, his expression unreadable. John looked back, so humiliated and exposed that he didn’t know what else to do.   
  
“Put yourself away,” Sanderson said, dismissively having achieved his moment of amusement. “Your pleasure is not the object. Nick on the other hand has earned some.” He put a finger under Nick’s chin, lifting it up so Nick met his eyes. “You would like some pleasure, wouldn’t you?” he said.   
  
Nick nodded warily.   
  
“Would you like to spend?” Sanderson said, wiping a tear from Nick’s cheek with his thumb.   
  
Nick nodded again.   
  
“Say it then,” Sanderson said.   
  
“I would like to, um. To spend sir,” he said.   
  
“Very well,” Sanderson said. “We are going to play a little game.”   
  
He lifted Nick back onto the desk and pulled open a drawer. Lifting out a set of velvet-lined cuffs, he smiled slowly.


	6. Sanderson's game

“We are going to play a little game.”  
  
He lifted Nick back onto the desk and pulled open a drawer. Lifting out a set of velvet-lined cuffs, Sanderson smiled slowly.  
  
“Hold out your arms,” he continued.   
  
Nick cast a quick look at John but did so, and Sanderson fastened the cuffs around his wrists.   
  
John forced himself to stay still and not throw himself forward and get between Nick and Sanderson. He looked so vulnerable with those heavy cuffs around his slim wrists, and there was no knowing what Sanderson was about to do to him.   
  
“Lie down,” Sanderson instructed.  
  
Nick lay on the desktop, passively allowing Sanderson to take his arms and pull them above his head. The cuffs were fastened to a hook on the far end of the desk, leaving Nick stretched out, every muscle of his lean chest and stomach on display. He looked up at Sanderson, his eyes huge.   
  
Sanderson leaned down over him.   
  
“You are my plaything for the evening,” he said, and the way he said ‘plaything’ sent a shiver through John. “And I am going to give you great pleasure. But when you feel that you are about to spend, you must tell me. If you fail to tell me, there will be a punishment.”  
  
Nick frowned, but nodded. His cock was still limp and his skin must still be burning, pressed as it was against the leather desktop. John wondered if Nick would get roused at all after such treatment.   
  
He glanced at the clock and Sanderson caught him. “There’s still three quarters of the hour to go,” he said. “Plenty time for Nicholas to play this game with me. But what should we do with you?”  
  
John swallowed, watching Sanderson’s face.   
  
“Perhaps I’ll think of something by and by,” he said, with a dangerous smile. He turned back to Nick. “Now - where shall we begin?”  
  
He began with Nick’s nipples. With featherlight touches of his fingertips he brought them to a peak, then alternated rolling them between forefinger and thumb with sharp squeezes and the odd flick of his tongue or tug with his teeth.   
  
Nick’s reaction was immediate. Every muscle in his body was tensed, his cock hard and wet, flushed dark with blood. He couldn’t suppress his low sounds of pleasure as Sanderson teased and touched and teased some more, and he spread his legs apart as though he couldn’t help himself.   
  
“You are a sensitive creature aren’t you,” Sanderson said. “I believe I could get your little pistol to shoot just by doing this.” He gave both nipples another sharp squeeze.   
  
Nick looked at him from eyes glazed with arousal, his cock bobbing against his stomach.   
  
“But I think I shall play with this a little first,” Sanderson said, running a finger slowly and firmly along the short length of Nick’s erection. Nick made a helpless sound and jerked his arms in the restraints.  
  
Sanderson laughed. “Yes, there’s a reason I’ve tied you down. I don’t think you’ll behave yourself very well otherwise. Now.”  
  
Sanderson spat unexpectedly and accurately onto Nick’s cock and began to stroke him. Slow, firm, sensual pulls at first, his thumb circling the flushed pink head, and dabbing at the wetness which appeared at the slit. Then faster and tighter, as Nick cried out his pleasure.   
  
“Yes sir,” he gasped. “Yes. Oh, close, I’m close…”  
  
Sanderson released him immediately, leaving Nick’s cock jerking against the air. Nick opened his eyes and looked at him in shock. “Sir…” he said, his voice pleading.   
  
“I don’t believe you’ve quite earned that pleasure yet,” Sanderson said with an unpleasant laugh. Nick looked at him in confusion, but Sanderson only wrapped his hand around Nick’s cock and started again. A minute more and Nick was back on the brink, and Sanderson denied him again, leaving him bucking his hips against nothing.   
  
And so it went on. As soon as Nick jerked away from Sanderson begging “Close sir,” he’d stop touching for a beat or two before beginning again. If Sanderson wasn’t touching Nick’s cock, then he was playing with his nipples or stroking his stomach or throat or underarms, making him writhe and beg, before returning to his abused cock again. Nick looked so primed, so impossibly hard that John couldn’t believe he hadn’t shot yet, but it seemed his fear of Sanderson’s punishment was just enough for him to manage to control it.   
  
It wasn’t long though, before each touch seemed agony. The way Nick sobbed in frustration every time Sanderson brought him to the very edge of climax before dragging him back again was the most delicious sound John thought he had ever heard, though it turned his stomach to admit it. He wanted those moans for himself, he knew that now. He wanted to be the one playing with Nick’s body, driving him half out of his senses with arousal.   
  
The clock ticked on, minute after agonising minute. Nick gave up begging and became quiet with desperation, not seeming to be aware of his surroundings. He stared up at Sanderson almost wordlessly, his cock dripping, his balls so high and tight that John could scarcely see them - and yet Sanderson’s torment went on. Nick was gasping ‘close’ every time Sanderson so much as brushed against him now, and there were still more than ten minutes left of the hour. John couldn’t see how Nick would make another five without giving in to a climax.   
  
He watched as Sanderson ran his hands down Nick’s sensitive inner arms and sides, rubbing a slow circle on his stomach as all his lean muscles clenched. Watching Nick shudder at this new sensation, John wondered again at the beauty of his brother’s body.  
  
Sanderson turned away from Nick.   
  
“Your turn,” he said. John snapped back back to attention, dragging his eyes from Nick’s hitching chest to look at his captor.   
  
“What do you mean?” John said.   
  
“Bring him to completion,” Sanderson said. “I wish to watch you. Both of you.”  
  
John stared at him in horror. “That…I can’t,” he stammered.   
  
“You will,” Sanderson said.   
  
“He’s my _brother_ ,” John said. Sanderson laughed.   
  
“I’m not blind you know. I can see the way you look at him,” Sanderson said. “You are fooling no one. Bring him off, or I’ll add an hour. Tonight. And I don’t think that’ll go very well for Nicholas, will it? He seems worn out,” Sanderson said, petting Nick’s hair.   
  
John looked at Nick’s tearstained face. Sanderson spoke the truth - he couldn’t put Nick through more.   
  
“Oh Nick…” he said hopelessly.   
  
Nick looked from one to the other. “Please,” he said to them both, seeming uncaring as to who responded.   
  
“You can do it under my instruction if it makes you feel better,” Sanderson said. He gave Nick’s nipple a hard twist. “Lift your legs up. Let your brother see your hole.”  
  
John felt himself heat all over in a rush at these crude, degrading words. But Nick did as he was told, pulling his knees back towards his chest, exposing himself to John. His reddened cock still jutted hard and painful against his stomach.   
  
“Stroke it,” Sanderson said to John. “Run your finger around the edge. Don’t push in until I say.”  
  
John took a deep breath and did so. Nick’s skin was hot and velvet soft, and slightly slick where he had prepared himself.   
  
Sanderson took his own cock out at last and pushed it against Nick’s lips.   
  
“Just your tongue,” he said to Nick and Nick lapped at it obediently.   
  
“In it goes then,” he said to John. “all the way. Make him happy.”  
  
John pressed his fingertip to Nick’s hole, feeling it give way at his touch, and slid all the way inside.   
  
Nick gasped, his muscles pressing around John. “Oh, Johnnie…”  
  
Sanderson gave him a quick, sharp slap. “ _Tongue,_ Nicholas.” Nicholas, tears springing to his eyes, recommenced licking.   
  
John slid his finger in and out of his brother, brushing against the place which was giving Nick bursts of pleasure he couldn’t suppress. John moved faster, loving the way Nick panted and moaned. The noises Nick was making, together with the working of his tongue on Sanderson’s cock seemed to be bringing their tormentor close to his climax.   
  
“Is that good, you filthy little boy?” Sanderson said, stroking Nick’s hair. “Your brother pleasuring you while you lick another man’s cock?” Nick moaned louder, pushing up against John’s hand. Sanderson rubbed his cock around Nick’s lips.   
  
“Stick your tongue out,” he said breathlessly. “Further. Look at me.” Nick did as he was told. God he looked pretty, John thought, his eyelashes wet with tears and eyes fixed imploringly on Sanderson. Sanderson worked his hand on himself faster.   
  
Nick curled his tongue up, flicking the underside of Sanderson’s cock.   
  
“Oh sweet Christ, you little slut.” Sanderson came with a grunt, shooting across Nick’s tongue and onto his face and hair. “Keep your tongue out,” he managed and Nick did, come pooling in his mouth. With a final shudder, he wiped his cock off on Nick’s face.   
  
“Alright, swallow it down,” Sanderson said, using his finger to scoop the mess from Nick’s face and force it into his mouth. Nick coughed but swallowed obediently.   
  
Sanderson grabbed a handful of Nick’s hair and forced his head up. “Look at your brother,” he said. “Look him in the eye. He’s got a finger inside you, and he’s going to make you come.”  
  
Nick did as he was bidden.   
  
John hadn’t thought he could feel more aroused, but he’d been wrong. With Nick’s tearful brown eyes on him, watching the movement of his hand, he felt weak and lightheaded from lust. Oh god, what was wrong with him?   
  
“Another finger dear brother,” Sanderson said to John. “Nice and deep please. Let’s put him out of his misery.”  
  
The sound Nick made as John pushed a second finger into him was what made John spend. He put out a hand to steady himself and pressed his crotch against the edge of the desk, coming silently, soaking his underwear, his breath coming in pained gasps. Sanderson let out a laugh.   
  
“Look what you’ve done to your brother with those whorish moans of yours,” he said to Nick, tugging hard on his hair. “You are as deviant as each other. You opened for his fingers like you do this for a living.” He turned to John.   
  
“Are you quite finished messing yourself like a schoolboy?” he said. John nodded, wrecked with humiliation.   
  
“Hand on his cock then,” Sanderson said. “I think the pretence of reluctance can be left behind us.”  
  
John reached out, his heart beating fast. Nick’s cock jerked in anticipation and Sanderson smiled.   
  
“That’s it. Your brother is going to take care of you Nicholas. He’s going pull at your prick and finger your hole until you make a dirty little mess of yourself. Aren’t you John?”  
  
“Yes sir,” John said quietly, and curled his fingers around his brother at last. Nick shuddered all over, his legs shaking with the effort of holding them up. John hitched Nick’s ankles onto his shoulders and leant forward. Their eyes met.   
  
“Please Johnnie,” Nick said, and Christ if John didn’t feel himself hardening again at that. He tried to focus on Nick’s pleasure, squeezing his hand around him and making him moan.   
  
It only took a half dozen hard, firm strokes before Nick cried out, “Close, close, oh…”  
  
 _Nick was going to come for him._ John drove his fingers in deep and Nick sobbed with pleasure, arching and pulling at his restraints as his cock shot his seed over his own chest. He seemed to spend on and on, clenching on John’s penetrating fingers.   
  
“Keep your fingers inside him,” Sanderson ordered. He took Nick’s cock in a tight fist and began to pump it. Nick bucked, shouting out in overstimulation, but Sanderson merely put a firm hand on his chest and held him down. “I think you deserve another, don’t you?” he said, arm moving faster.   
  
It took five agonising minutes for Nick to climax again, though he beseeched Sanderson to stop for the entire duration, kicking out desperately and trying to wrench out of reach. But he did at last, with a hopeless cry.   
  
“There we are,” Sanderson said, wiping his hand casually across Nick’s stomach. “Little boys like you are always remarkably full of seed. You most likely have at least another in you, but I don’t wish to break you entirely quite yet.”  
  
The clock struck the hour. John heard what he assumed was Sanderson’s carriage draw up outside.  
  
“Please sir, release him,” John said, seeing Sanderson was preoccupied with tidying himself up.   
  
“Oh,” he said, and carelessly tugged open a drawer and threw a bunch of keys at John. “It’s marked on there, if you can read. Can you?”  
  
John ignored this petty jab and found the key for the cuffs. He released his brother, tenderly checking his wrists for damage before helping him up. Nick raised a hand to his face, wiping at the mess there.   
  
“Let me clean you up,” John said quietly, searching his pockets for a handkerchief.   
  
“No time for that, I have things to do,” Sanderson said, holding his hand out for the keys. “Get dressed and get out.”   
  
Nick was trembling too hard to follow any such instruction, and John dressed him quickly instead.   
  
Sanderson threw open the door to his office. “Out,” he repeated.   
  
John could hear the sound of a second carriage arriving and wonder who Sanderson could be expecting. Still, he didn’t want to cause any trouble. Taking Nick’s arm he steered him from the room as quickly as possible.   
  
Their journey home was made in silence. John cleaned Nick’s face for him and then Nick lay his head down in John’s lap and closed his eyes until they arrived at home.   
  
John more or less carried Nick to their room, and then went in search of hot water and supper. Their landlady, not as charmed by John as by his brother, refused water for yet another bath - a third in one week? Did they think they were bloody royalty? - but gave him a jugful for a wash, and a covered dish of potatoes, cabbage and some stringy mutton.   
  
Nick scrubbed himself hard all over, still mostly in silence. John left him alone, only making sure Nick ate some supper, and occupied himself in making up a bundle of their spend-stained clothes for the laundry.   
  
He lay down on the bed at last, and stared up at the ceiling, not sure how to break the awful silence. Nick must hate him for what he had done to him. To have touched him like that, degraded him, tormented him. And been so roused from it that he’d spilled in his own trousers.   
  
But Nick broke the silence for him. “Johnnie,” he said, sitting on the bed. He looked at John, and reached out to take his hand. John held on tightly, eyes searching Nick’s face. Nick was biting his lip, but didn’t seem angry, only nervous.   
  
“What is it, sweetheart?” John said, the endearment slipping out before he could stop it.   
  
Nick took a great breath. “I don’t want Sanderson to be my first,” he said.


	7. Deflowering

“What?” John said hoarsely, though he could hardly miss Nick’s meaning.   
  
Nick lay down next to him, turning so they were face to face.   
  
“I don’t want my first time to be with him,” he said, looking earnestly at John. “I’ll pretend it is, if it seems he’d like it…”  
  
“He’d like it,” John assured him.   
  
Nick was quiet, his eyes golden brown in the candlelight. “Would _you_ like it?” he said.   
  
John let out a shaky breath. God the temptation, stretched out in front of him, asking for this. His sweet little brother.   
  
“Nick…” he began. He closed his eyes, reaching for the strength to refuse. “I can’t.”  
  
He opened his eyes to see his brother looking wounded.   
  
“Is it because I didn’t like being hit?” he said. “And that’s what excites you? Maybe I wouldn’t mind it if it was you, Johnnie. Sanderson hit so hard, and I didn’t know when he’d stop. But you wouldn’t.”  
  
“No, it’s not that!” John said, burning with shame. “I don’t know why that roused me. There’s something wrong with me, I think. I’d never do that to you, I’d never _want_ to. I’m so sorry.”   
  
“Don’t let tomorrow be my first time,” Nick said, and, oh! It was so unfair of Nick to beg him this way. But he was right. Nick’s first time shouldn’t be frightening or painful. It shouldn’t be on his hands and knees on an office floor, or tied down over a desk, or while being beaten, all while his brother looked on.  
  
“I know there are things you like to do with men,” Nick said softly. “Please do them to me, I want you to. I want _you_.”  
  
“You can’t...just…” John said helplessly.  
  
“Please,” Nick said. “If you don’t like it you needn’t ever do it again. Just this once. I’ll...I’ll make it good, I’ll make it so you like it. Let me try.”   
  
He reached a hand out and placed it tentatively on John’s waist. John jumped as though he had been stung.   
  
“You...you know it’s a sin?” John said, in a desperate last attempt to stop himself taking a bite of this incredible temptation.   
  
Nick nodded. “But it’s all a sin, isn’t it? I’ve sinned so much already. And Johnnie, I…” he leant closer and whispered. “I think of sinning with you all the time. When I abuse myself. So God already knows.”  
  
Dear fucking Jesus. John felt pinned to the bed with lust, limbs weak. Perhaps that would save them both.   
  
But he had reckoned without Nick, who Nick pressed himself against him, hand tight on John’s hip, and with sweet hesitancy, kissed him.   
  
It was chaste enough, though it set John’s whole body aflame. Just Nick’s closed lips pressed against his own, his fingers twisting in John’s nightshirt. They broke apart, John’s chest rising and falling as though he’d been running. Then Nick kissed him again, lips parting with a tiny sound that turned John’s spine to liquid. With a hopeless groan he kissed his brother back, giving in to the sin and the damning lusts that plagued him. He tried to hold back and keep the kisses slow and gentle out of some twisted idea of not overwhelming his brother, but then Nick made another of those little sounds and pushed his tongue into John’s mouth and then there was nothing between them but hunger.   
  
Kissing him wildly, he rolled Nick onto his back and thrilled at the feeling of his brother’s lithe body trapped under his own. Nick arched and squirmed, his arousal pressing hard and insistent against John’s thigh.   
  
“ _Johnnie,_ ” he gasped. “Undress me.”  
  
It was the work of a moment to sit up, thighs still clamped around Nick’s body, and pull both their nightshirts off. And then his brother was laid out before him, almost overwhelmingly beautiful. John had made do for so long with tiny glimpses, never wanting to stare or to encourage his own filthy thoughts. The last few days he had feasted on the sight of Nick’s naked body, but instead of sating him, it had stoked the fire he’d tried to dampen for years. And now he took in every detail of that dear face; the sprinkle of freckles, the sweep of his lashes, the way Nick bit on a kiss-stung lip as he watched John back, waiting.   
  
“Oh sweetheart,” John said hopelessly as he lowered his mouth onto Nick’s again and Nick wrapped his arms around him. “Oh God help us both.”  
  
Nick held him close as their kisses grew more desperate. John could feel Nick’s cock sliding against his own, wet with arousal and it was all he could do not to bend and take it into his mouth in one delicious mouthful. But then he’d surely spend himself, and Nick had asked very clearly to be fucked. But he couldn’t resist the temptation to work his brother up just a little more.   
  
Pulling his mouth away from Nick’s he applied it to his nipples instead, sucking and flicking them with his tongue, teasing them to hardness and sending Nick incoherent.   
  
“Oh God, I’ll spend, I’ll spend,” he gasped as he squirmed under John’s mouth. “Please, I can’t!”  
  
John took mercy on him. “I don’t want you to spend yet,” he said, kissing his way back up Nick’s throat to his jaw. “I want to feel you spend around me. There’s nothing better than being deep in a boy who’s coming on your cock because you made them.”  
  
He felt Nick tremble at his filthy words. “I want that,” he said. “I’ll come for you Johnnie, like the other boys. Oh God, I’ll come whenever you say. Please, do it now. I want you so.”  
  
With a final nip to Nick’s neck, John sat back on his heels and reached for the petroleum jelly. Scooping some out he slicked himself first, his erection standing out flushed and rigid from his body. Then taking some more, he pressed two fingers against his brother’s opening. Nick looked at him nervously.  
  
“I can just do it this way if you like,” John said, pressing his fingers inside. “Like earlier. You liked that didn’t you?”  
  
“Yes,” Nick said breathlessly. “Yes, it’s...uhh, oh God…” he trailed off as John rocked his fingers inside him. “But please...oh please I want all of you.”  
  
John slid his fingers out gently, and took hold of himself. Nick watched the movement of John’s hand on his cock and lifted his legs, spreading them.  
  
“Oh you little wanton,” John teased. Nick gave a shy smile.   
  
“If I don’t encourage you a little you’ll take all night,” he said, flushing up at his own boldness.   
  
John grinned.   
  
“I’ll take all night over you if I please,” he said, enjoying the look of anticipation this brought to his brother’s face. But he didn’t want to tease or torment Nick as Sanderson had done earlier. He wanted nothing but to give Nick pleasure, and watch him as he took it until he broke apart.   
  
And so, with infinite care, and watching every flicker of expression on Nick’s open face, he pressed himself inside him.   
  
They both stilled, breathing hard.   
  
“Are you inside?” Nick said. “All the way?”  
  
“Not yet,” John said. Nick watched him, eyes dark and unfocused, lips open. John pressed forward another inch, feeling Nick’s body give way to him. Nick let out a hiss of discomfort and John stopped moving and just held him.   
  
“Try to push me out,” John said, kissing him. “It’ll help.” He felt Nick’s muscles work against him and then relax. Nick closed his eyes and moaned and John pushed forward. Nick tightened his thighs against John’s sides, using his heels to bring John closer.   
  
“Nick?” John said. Nick opened his eyes and looked at him. His pupils were huge with arousal, lips parted and reddened with kissing.   
  
“Please,” he said.  
  
“Please what, sweetheart?” said John, wanting to hear him say it.   
  
Nick took two hard breaths and looked right into John’s eyes. “Do it hard, Johnnie.”  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” John breathed as he pulled his hips back and began to do just that.   
  
He had never fucked anyone with such abandon before, and had never had anyone beneath him so responsive. Nick moaned incoherently, his fingers gripping the sheets, cock jerking up with every thrust inside him. It wasn’t just the feel of him tight around John or the abandoned sounds he was making, but that this was his Nick, his secret desire and his heart’s love, spread out for him and begging for more.   
  
“Is this what you wanted?” John panted.   
  
“I love it,” Nick gasped. “I love you. Oh don’t stop.” He arched up, wrapping his legs tighter around John.   
  
“I won’t stop till you finish,” John said, rolling his hips up into his brother. “I’ll take care of you darling.”  
  
“Touch me,” Nick begged. He was pushing himself onto John now, no hint of the nervous virgin about him at all. John wrapped a hand around his brother’s cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts.   
  
“Like this?” he said.   
  
“Yes like that. Oh...Oh it’s good, I’m...”   
  
John could feel Nick’s orgasm building around his own cock as Nick’s strong young muscles tightened. He moved his hand faster, not able to take his eyes from Nick’s face as his brother gave into sensation. John thrust his cock as deep as he could and with a final cry, Nick tensed all over and shot in hot spurts onto John’s chest.   
  
“Oh sweetheart,” John groaned, coming himself in an almost painful rush, collapsing forward against his brother.   
  
“Oh Christ,” he managed as Nick sighed and pulled him close against him.   
  
They lay for a moment, sticky in their own sweat and spend, listening to the evening sounds of the boarding house. Nothing tranquil, thank God, or their own cries would have been overheard, but the drunken shouts of Mallen the washerwoman arguing with their landlady, and a dog barking somewhere, and gin-soaked laughter drifting up from the Old Tom across the street.   
  
“Was it like the other boys Johnnie?” Nick murmured, petting John’s hair. John hitched himself up onto an elbow to look at him. Nick’s eyes were heavy already.   
  
“It was never like that with the other boys,” John said, dazedly. “I’ve never had such a fuck before.” He kissed Nick deeply, still wanting to be in him somehow, not wanting this closeness to end.   
  
“Does that mean you’d do it again?” Nick said, an edge of sleepy delight in his voice.   
  
“I never want to do anything else,” John said, and Nick chuckled. John rolled off him and then pulled Nick tight against him, Nick’s head on his chest. They should rise and wash themselves, but the room was cold and the water colder. Nick wrapped an arm tight around him and within a few moments his breathing deepened and he was asleep.


	8. Late

John had slept deeply after the sweet ending to their night, and Nick was long gone to work when he awoke. And now he was late again.

He’d already been cutting it fine, having been seeking out work at the tannery, but he’d thought he’d have enough time to get to Sanderson’s Shipping by 5 o’clock. He’d reckoned without an exhausted horse overturning an omnibus on Fleet Street, causing such a press that he could not fight his way through it for almost a quarter hour.   
  
He had heard the clock bells of St Paul’s chime the hour long since as he ran towards the Shipping Company, panic rising. What punishment would he have brought on both their heads?  
  
Gasping and coughing after his race through the filthy streets, he reached the office door at last, barely knocking before tumbling through it.   
  
He froze to the spot, breathing hard, staring at the scene before him. Nick was naked, his wrists tied wickedly tightly together in the small of his back. Sanderson held him almost upright near the fire, one hand gripping his hair and the other digging into Nick’s hip as he pushed his huge, oiled cock into Nick’s body. John could see Nick try to jerk away, struggling to take Sanderson’s length. Too close to the fire, his pale skin flared with the heat and he flinched as a log caught and sparked.   
  
“Blessed us with your presence at last?” Sanderson said a little breathlessly. He shoved the last few inches of his prick into Nick and Nick cried out.   
  
“Hurts…” he said. He was rewarded with a hard slap. John started forward but Sanderson fixed his eyes upon him, a nasty smile on his face.   
  
“You’re a little late to intervene,” he said. He was still fully dressed and that seemed an even greater insult; that he had only deigned to tug his cock out from his smallclothes to fuck poor Nick, as though it was nothing to him.   
  
“Taking his virtue has been very sweet,” Sanderson remarked, releasing Nick’s hair and gripping him harder by the hips. “His hole was loathe to admit me at first, but we persevered, didn’t we Nick? I’m sorry you weren’t here to witness it.”  
  
He shoved Nick even closer to the fire and began to fuck him in hard, punishing strokes, his thighs slapping against Nick’s skin. Nick tried to lean away from the heat but that only impaled him further onto Sanderson and he let out a sob.   
  
“Move,” Sanderson said. Nick rocked on his cock, sobbing again, and Sanderson took hold of his limp cock and tugged at it.   
  
“Oh, oh please, enough sir. Sir. Enough. Please let me stop,” Nick babbled. “I’ll suck you. Please, please.”  
  
“He spent you know,” Sanderson remarked to John, ignoring the crying boy in his arms. “The instant I breached him. Made a disgusting mess, the little slut. Perhaps you should clean it up.”  
  
John could see the seed drying on Nick’s stomach and thighs and knew the agonies of sensitivity he must be suffering. He began to strip his clothes off.   
  
“Won’t you please fuck me sir?” he said imploringly. "I ran all the way here." Without letting himself think too much he stepped up to Sanderson and kissed him. Sanderson kissed him back roughly, until John stepped back, tugging his shirt over his head. He unfastened his trousers and smallclothes, kicking them aside. Sanderson watched him, his eyes dark with interest. John stood naked in front of him and ran a hand along his hardening length.   
  
“May I make myself ready for you sir?” he said softly, eyes flicking over to the oil Sanderson had used on his brother. Sanderson nodded, licking his lips. His hips had stilled, though he still held a gasping Nick flush against him.  
  
John took the oil and turned around. Bracing a hand on Sanderson’s desk, he made a great show of the preparation, stroking and teasing his hole, fucking himself with one finger and then another. He let himself moan with the feeling, his prick standing straight out in front of him already wet at the tip, stealing coquettish glances at Sanderson over his shoulder.   
  
“ _Christ_ ,” Sanderson groaned. “You really will do anything to protect little brother, won’t you. Well let’s see how much of me you can take.” He pulled roughly out of Nick who cried out and staggered, falling to his knees. Then, taking a handful of John’s hair Sanderson pulled him over to the large chair behind the desk.   
  
Sanderson sat down on it, leaning back so that the whole thick length of himself was on display. “Up you get,” he said. “And you do the work. I want you taking this to the root, as fast as I tell you to. And if you fail, I’ll go back to Nicholas.”  
  
John climbed onto the chair a little unsteadily. Holding onto the back of it with one hand he straddled Sanderson, reaching behind himself to take hold of Sanderson’s cock and guide it to his hole. Breathing hard he pressed himself down against it, the head too impossibly wide to go in all at once. How had Nick managed at all? It pressed inside him, stretching him more than he could ever have imagined he could take. Gritting his teeth he pushed himself down on it. He could not allow his sweet Nick to have to take this monster again today.   
  
“ _Fuck_ , you’re eager,” Sanderson swore as John seated himself fully, unable to help a whimper of discomfort. It hurt, but oh how it felt to be this full.  
  
“Show me where you can feel me.”  
  
“What?” gasped John, startled.   
  
Sanderson gripped John’s thighs and rolled up into him, almost knocking the breath from him. He willed himself not to struggle away, but Christ it was so _much_.  
  
“Lean back and show me how deep I am,” Sanderson said, eyes dark and glazed. “Where you can feel me.”  
  
John could barely sit upright never mind lean back, but he forced himself to do so, aware as he was of Nick curled in the corner of the room, watching. He could not seem to be in pain.   
  
He pressed his hand to his stomach, his own cock painting the back of his hand with drops of his arousal. “Here,” he managed in a half-whisper. “I feel you so deep inside me sir, like you’re splitting me in two.”  
  
“And you like that, do you?” Sanderson said, idly swatting and tugging at John’s erection.   
  
“Yes, sir,” John moaned, and God save him, it was the truth.   
  
“Ride it then,” Sanderson said. “Let’s see what damage I can do.”  
  
John began, holding onto the back of the chair with both hands and using his thighs to slide himself up and down Sanderson’s length, moving on top of him as he’d seen riders rising to the trot. Sanderson’s breath was coming fast and he looked right into John’s eyes as they reached a punishing rhythm. John was moaning aloud now, and Sanderson stroked his cock almost gently, bringing him to the edge of climax.   
  
“Sweet jesus you like to fuck don’t you,” Sanderson gasped, urging John to move faster. “I’ve never had a whore take me like this, not without making a great damned fuss about it. But you just take it, and _take_ it…” John moaned helplessly as Sanderson arched up under him. “A little underfed guttersnipe swallowing my cock like it’s nothing. I'm going to play with you till you beg for mercy...going to find things to fill you with. You'll…” Sanderson forgot what he was saying as he began to climax, hand convulsing around John and tipping him over the edge with him. John felt his body clamp around Sanderson, and it _hurt_ but oh fuck he wanted it, wanted every inch, every thrust.   
  
John rested his head against Sanderson's shoulder, shaking all over. Sanderson pulled his cock slowly from John’s hole, wet and soft.   
  
“Hold my seed inside you,” he said to John. He beckoned to Nick, who stood with some difficulty and came over.   
  
“Get on your knees and put your mouth to your brother,” he said. Nick’s eyes went round.   
  
“Y-you mean…”  
  
“Get on your knees,” Sanderson repeated. Nick did so. John could feel his breath on the tender skin of his hole. “Put your mouth against him. Tongue out.”  
  
John felt Nick’s warm tongue against his skin and shivered all over with the beautiful sensation.   
  
“Feed your brother then,” Sanderson said to John with a hint of a smile and John knew exactly what the twisted bastard meant.   
  
He closed his eyes and pushed Sanderson’s seed from his body. He felt Nick’s mouth working against him, licking and sucking and his own cock jerked in defeated arousal at the wrongness and wickedness of of it.   
  
Finished, Nick sat back. Sanderson pushed John from his lap. “Clean up the front too. In fact, clean each other,” he said in a bored voice. “I have something to arrange.”  
  
Putting his spent cock away he left the room. Nick looked at John. “Untie me?” he said.   
  
“Are you hurt?” John said, releasing Nick’s reddened wrists.   
  
“Not really. He’s so big though Johnnie, I thought he’d tear me. I didn’t have to act the virgin at all, I might as well have still been one. And I was so scared he’d put me in the fire…”  
  
“I don’t think he’d do such a thing,” John reassured him.   
  
“I’d better…” Nick indicated the mess on John’s stomach, and bent his head to it. He was still diligently licking when Sanderson returned. John’s heart thudded as he realised there was someone in the doorway behind him. Someone else they must service?  
  
“A little hobby I indulge in,” Sanderson said as the man followed him into the room. He held what John could see was the most modern photographic equipment he’d ever seen. The man nodded to them both as though he and Nick were doing nothing unusual, and began to set the equipment up.   
  
“A hobby and a little safeguard, as it were,” Sanderson continued. “For the sorts of photographs I like to add to my collection are best kept under lock and key, lest I might perhaps need them. As protection against blackmail, for instance.”  
  
“You...you mean to take our photographs sir?” John said. “Undressed?” Nick looked at him in horror.   
  
“Oh not quite undressed,” Sanderson said with a grin. “I have laid out what you shall be wearing in the head clerk’s office next door. Your lateness has gained me more of your time and I plan to spend it making the most delightful tableaus of you both.”  
  
That meant together. He and Nick in the most sinful poses, touching, looking at each other. Maybe even fucking. These photographs would be a safeguard which could send them both to prison in an instant.   
  
And yet...John’s mind worked furiously. A hobby, Sanderson said. This was not the first time he’d done this then. And he had a ‘collection.’ A collection which in the wrong hands - in _their_ hands - could ensure he and Nick a rich source of income for a long time to come.   
  
“Yes, sir,” he said, and taking Nick’s hand, he led him to the makeshift dressing room.


	9. Sanderson's past

They looked at the clothes laid out for them. John guessed immediately which were meant for him - a humiliating parody of a sailor’s uniform. Nick was to wear a corset, petticoat and knee stockings, and a crown of flowers on his hair.  
  
Nick picked the corset up, frowning at how on earth to put it on. “Oh lord, Johnnie, what next?” he said, and started to giggle.  
  
“Don’t,” John said, beginning to laugh himself as he tried to squeeze into his costume.  
  
“I believe your ship’s captain would have you flogged for those trousers,” Nick said.  
  
“At least I have some,” John said. “You’ve nothing but a petticoat you little tart.”

He stopped as he heard a disturbance outside the room and put his hand on Nick’s arm.  
  
“Shh,” he said. “Someone else has come.”  
  
Nick’s eyes went wide as they listened.  
  
“Who let you up here?” Sanderson was saying. He passed by the door of the office and slammed it shut, but the catch jammed and it opened up a little. Peering through the crack, John saw Sanderson come back with a slender young man in a dove grey suit and a face so handsome he looked like an illustration from a book.  
  
“Well that’s nice I must say,” the man said.  
  
“I have someone here,” Sanderson said in a low angry voice. “So if you’re here to taunt me with your wedding ring and your…”  
  
The man made a scoffing sound. “ _Taunt_ you? I’m the most miserable newlywed there ever was.”  
  
“You’ll forgive me for not giving a damn about that,” Sanderson said.  
  
The beautiful young man made a sudden move, trying to put his arms around Sanderson, but Sanderson took hold of his upper arms and pushed him back.  
  
“You told me to marry her, blast you,” the man said, wrenching out of his grasp.  
  
“I did,” Sanderson said nastily. “You were behaving like a hysteric.”  
  
“I am _in love_ with you,” the young man said. “And you love _me_. Oh,” he said, as Sanderson made a disgusted noise. “Don’t give me that, you know you are. I was willing to break the bloody engagement, I told you that a thousand times. I already have a title and a fortune, I didn’t need Amelia’s. All I wanted was for you to give up anyone else. I’m more than enough for you, and you know it.”  
  
“Do I?” Sanderson said dismissively. “I’ve found playmates enough for all my proclivities since you left.”  
  
The man put his head on one side and looked at Sanderson thoughtfully. “Willing ones?” he said. Sanderson looked away and the man gave a mirthless laugh.  
  
“You’re buying them then,” he said, straightening his immaculate coat and smoothing his fair hair. “Goodness Nathaniel, has it come to this?”  
  
Sanderson lifted his chin, his handsome face formidable.  
  
“It gets me exactly what I want. There’s a boy in there who can take cock better than anyone I’ve ever been with,” he said. “Practically begs me for it.”  
  
“But you won’t like that for long, will you,” the man said, glancing up at Sanderson through his long lashes. “Someone who can take it. You loved it when I struggled to take you. When I’d beg you to slow down because it hurt and you’d only fuck me harder until I cried...”  
  
“ _Freddie…_ ” Sanderson said, in almost a groan and John could understand why. To think of someone who looked like Freddie beneath you, pleading with you...  
  
“I haven’t had anyone since you, you know,” Freddie said softly. He prowled closer to Sanderson. “I think my body’s forgotten what it’s like to have a cock inside it. You’d have to teach me all over again.”  
  
Sanderson looked at him long and hard. “You have your wife now,” he said.  
  
“Oh, she’s expecting by the way,” Freddie said, running a gloved finger down Sanderson’s lapel.  
  
“Congratulations,” Sanderson said, grabbing the finger and stopping him.  
  
“Good christ, Nathaniel - it’s not _mine_ ,” Freddie said. “She hasn’t deigned to tell me whose it is, and I can’t say I care. Look, this was all a terrible mistake.”  
  
“A mistake on both our parts,” Sanderson said.  
  
“Us _parting_ was a terrible mistake,” Freddie said. “We both know it, though you’re too proud to admit it. I’m perfectly awful and so are you, and we shouldn’t inflict ourselves on another soul. And you remember how I loved all your little games.”  
  
“Do I?” Sanderson said in a low voice. Freddie smiled and John’s breath caught at how beautiful he looked.  
  
“Oh I think so. Your favourite was choking me on your cock till I was almost insensible - you said you liked the way my legs would kick when I couldn’t breathe. I’d spend without you even touching me,” Freddie said. “Remember that? I believe the fact you had your piece in such an aristocratic throat made it even better. I of course was lowering myself most terribly.”  
  
“Be quiet,” Sanderson growled.  
  
“Now, now. The fact remains that my father is an Earl, and yours, what was it? A generation removed from some desperate Scotch fishing village?”  
  
“Get out,” Sanderson said. Freddie smirked.  
  
“Enjoy the bit of rough trade you’ve got in there,” he said, adjusting his gloves. “Hope he’s not too expensive.”  
  
“Go home to your wife, Freddie. You’ve made your damned bed and now you can lie in it.”  
  
Freddie’s smug mask slipped away and he looked miserable. “You’re a stupid fool Nathaniel,” he said. “But you’ve broken my heart, if that makes you feel better.”  
  
Sanderson passed a hand across his face before flinging the door open. “Go,” was all he said.  
  
Freddie went, slamming the door behind him. John had the presence of mind to shut the door he was standing behind at the same time, so Sanderson wouldn’t hear. He turned to Nick who was standing, eyes round.  
  
“Poor Mr Sanderson,” he whispered.  
  
“Quickly sweetheart, we must dress, or he’ll know we were eavesdropping,” John said. He put on the sailor hat and Nick began to laugh again.  
  
“Oh help me put this on, I cannot make head nor tail of it,” he said, holding out the corset. John began to help him, tightening it around Nick’s narrow waist and making sure it was snug against his ribcage. His nipples showed above it in a most enticing way, and when John put the wreath of flowers on Nick’s hair, he couldn’t help but kiss him.  
  
“Oh Johnnie,” Nick sighed, melting against him. “Poor Mr Sanderson,” he said again.  
  
“There’s nothing poor about him,” John said.  
  
“Oh but there is! His heart is broken. No wonder he’s cruel. I have you, but who does he have?” Nick said.  
  
John thought that Sanderson would be cruel even if he was married to his heart’s desire. He jumped as the man himself banged on the door.  
  
“Out,” he said, throwing the door open. “You have work to do.” He seemed exactly the same as he ever was, as though the dramatic scene in the hallway had never happened. John and Nick followed him back to his office and prepared for their next humiliation.


	10. A natural

John led Nick back through to Sanderson’s office. The photographic equipment was entirely set up, and a backdrop was draped across the window. there was a large chair in the middle of the room, and some cushions strewn beneath it. He tried to ignore the various implements set out along Sanderson’s desk.   
  
Sanderson sat in the corner of the room, his arms folded. He was tapping one foot, and if John hadn’t witnessed the scene minutes before, he’d have only thought it was impatience.   
  
The photographer was old and scrawny and hunched over his equipment. He glanced up.   
  
“The little one first,” he said, giving Nick a look that churned John’s stomach. “Now what do you want for him?”  
  
“Not the floggers or the paddle, he’ll just cry,” Sanderson said. “Keep it sweet. Romantic.”  
  
The photographer gave a small grunt of agreement. “And him?” he jerked his head towards John.   
  
“Oh, he’ll take whatever you give him,” Sanderson said.   
  
“And he’ll stay at a stand, will he?” the photographer said with a smirk. “That’s an extra shilling on each print if so.”  
  
“Which will go to me,” Sanderson snapped. The photographer wiped the smile from his face and turned to his work.   
  
“Come here,” he said to Nick. Nick walked over to him, the petticoat moving softly against his legs. The photographer looked him over. “Turn around while I fix this,” he said, tugging at Nick’s corset. Nick obeyed and the photographer began to tighten it up. John had laced it as loosely as he could get away with, but this man was having none of it. The corset bones creaked as it was tugged to full tightness, Nick’s chest rising and falling against the constriction.   
  
“Much better,” the photographer said, turning Nick back around. “Look at that.” He rested his bony hands around Nick’s waist. Nick stood very still, his eyes cast downwards, the flowers a vivid contrast to his gold-brown hair.   
  
“You’re a picture already,” the photographer said. He went to the desk and opened a small wooden box. Inside was a pot of rouge and a brush. “A little photographer’s trick,” he said to Nick as he went back over to him. With a thumb he rubbed first one of Nick’s nipples slowly to hardness, then the other. Nick breathed hard and John could see the front of his petticoat start to tent.   
  
“Stop sampling the merchandise Bill,” Sanderson said in a bored voice. “You’ll make him spill if you carry on like that and then I shan’t pay you.”  
  
Bill chuckled, and dipped the brush in his pot. Very delicately he painted Nick’s nipples rosy pink. Dipping it again he painted his lips and stepped back to look at his work.  
  
“I can’t decide if you look like a virgin or a whore,” he said, and the colour in Nick’s cheeks deepened. “Right, on the chair with you.”  
  
The first few photographs were of Nick sitting demurely on the edge of the chair, looking up at the camera. Then Bill began to give him directions. _Lean backwards. Hitch your skirts. Open your legs. Wider. Get that cock at a stand. Do you need some help?_  
  
“No,” Nick said quickly, grasping himself. A few quick strokes had his cock hard up against his stomach.   
  
“Good,” Bill said. “Now leave it alone and look at me.”  
  
Nick was a natural at all this, it turned out. He looked incredibly picturesque in his costume, but also seemed to know instinctively how to pose, where to put his arms, how to angle his head. His expression was provocative and innocent at once, and John was so hard watching him he thought he’d spend any moment.   
  
Bill was in heaven. “Sweet lord we’ll make a fortune,” he said to Sanderson as he captured Nick lounging in the chair with his arm thrown carelessly above his head and his petticoats rucked up around his waist, cock still hard and urgent. “Now should we have him penetrate himself? He is your, um, merchandise after all, but we would make a veritable killing…”  
  
“Why not?” Sanderson said in a bored voice, and Bill looked at him in surprise.   
  
“Is this not what you wanted?” he asked.   
  
Sanderson took a long sip of the brandy he held. “It’s exactly what I wanted. I am just a little tired this evening.”  
  
“No wonder, with two such playmates,” Bill laughed, and lifted a great carved ivory cock from the desk. He knelt by Nick and with no preparation at all, pushed a finger into him.   
  
Nick cried out.   
  
“You seem well enough oiled,” Bill said indifferently, moving the finger around with no heed to Nick’s squirms. “Now here’s what I want. You suck this first, then hold it near your hole but don’t put it in. When I tell you, slide the tip in and no more. I don’t want you spending.”  
  
“An extra hour if you spend, Nicholas,” Sanderson said. “You need to learn some self control when you’re filled. He spills like a leaky tap, it’s extraordinary,” he said to Bill.  
  
“He’s that type,” Bill said. “Sluttish. You should feel him around my finger now. And look at the eager little cock, ticking like a metronome with every touch. Should have caged the thing.” He gave Nick’s cock a painful slap and chuckled again.   
  
John made a movement as if to step forwards.   
  
“Stay still boy for god’s sake,” Sanderson said impatiently. “Very protective of his brother,” he said to Bill. John ignored them both, eyes fixed on Nick. Nick looked up at him and their gazes caught. Then he lifted the ivory dildo to his mouth and began to lick it.   
  
“That’s it,” Bill said, leaping back to his station behind the camera. “Get a bit more in your mouth. Close your eyes. Now open them. Look at the camera. Swallow a bit more down. That’s it. Hold still.” He worked quickly, changing the plates, working the flashlamp.   
  
Nick followed every instruction, casting glances at John all the while. John was in a haze of arousal. The lamplight on Nick’s skin, the tightness of the demure corset and the contrast of his flushed cock against it, the dildo breeching him, his fingers pinching at his own nipple, the flowers in his hair. He was a work of art. John could not bear that these photographs would be distributed among the grubby shops of Holywell Street. He wanted them for his own.   
  
And before he knew it Nick was standing, righting his petticoats, and crossing the room to sit at Sanderson’s feet. It was John’s turn now.   
  
Sanderson petted Nick’s hair a little carelessly. “What a whore you looked,” he said. “And not a bit ashamed.”  
  
Nick said nothing but snuck a look up at John through his lashes. He gave him a small pleased smile and John realised with a rush of heat that most of that show had been for him.   
  
It was odd though that Nick had got off so lightly. Sanderson seemed detached and distracted and not inclined to indulge any of his sadistic tendencies. John hoped that would hold for his turn.


	11. Sanderson's insurance

John was nowhere near as relaxed as Nick had been in front of the camera. He was awkward and clumsy, and didn’t know where to put his hands. He felt like an idiot in his costume and his face burned as he tried to follow the photographer’s instructions.

Bill also seemed unimpressed.

“Don’t think you’ll get much out of this one,” he said, watching John’s uncomfortable performance with a frown.

Mr Sanderson gave a low chuckle. “I don’t need him to look seductive. I need him to look deviant,” he said. “John, take that shirt off.”

John tugged his shirt over his head. Bill gave a grunt of approval.

“Get yourself stiff,” Mr Sanderson said. “No...leave the trousers fastened. Rub yourself through them, that’s it.”

John did as he was told, aware that Nick was watching him.

“Very nice,” Bill said with satisfaction. “Let me just…” he thrust his hand beneath John’s waistband and adjusted the angle of his cock. Stepping back he smiled.

“Put your hands in your pockets,” he instructed. John did so, the fabric pulling tight against his erection.

Bill adjusted the dreadful hat to a jauntier angle. “Try not to glare like that,” he said mildly as he moved back behind his camera.

John posed like that for a few shots, then with the fall of the trousers unfastened and his cock on display. Try as he might, he knew his expression was more sullen than aroused, however hard he was.

“You look as though you’re contemplating murder,” Mr Sanderson said. He’d drained his brandy glass for the third time and seemed a little more like himself. “Take your clothes off. Kneel down and hold your arms up above your head. Cross your wrists.”

John did so, his heart beginning to thump. Sanderson picked up some thin rope from the desk and crossed over to him.

“You don’t own a shipping company without learning a thing or two about sailors,” Mr Sanderson said. He tied the rope tightly around John’s wrists with some complicated looking knot.

They made him pose like that for a short while, his arms stretched above his head, before Sanderson retied his arms at the wrist behind his back.

“Time for a Captain’s punishment,” he said.

“Now, you know the drill Sanderson,” Bill said. “Whip him first so we get his expression, but then lay the rod back against his skin for the camera. It can’t pick up the action fast enough, else.”

“Keep my face out of it,” Sanderson said, removing his jacket and lifting a long switch from the desk. “Will this do?”

“That should make him cry out lovely,” Bill said. “Tears would be lovelier. Tears and a cockstand would be the best.”

“At your service,” Sanderson said, rolling up his sleeves. John stared in mute horror as he approached in all his handsome, cruel glory. He closed his eyes and awaited the flogging of his life. To his surprise he found himself being touched gently. He tried to crane his head around to see what Sanderson was about, but a firm hand on his head stopped him. He closed his eyes again as Sanderson stroked him all over, both with hands and the switch, dragging it across his skin and using it to gently nudge his cock and balls. In moments John had a cockstand any photographer would appreciate, and still the slow exploration of his body continued.

The first blow that fell across his back snapped him back to reality. He gasped, his eyes flying open.

“Look up,” Bill instructed, and John did, just as another hard blow struck him across the shoulders. He grunted in pain, blinking hard.

“Hit him lower, and keep going,” Bill said.

The next few blows hit him across the arse and sent him shouting out with pain. Sanderson moved to his thighs then, and then back up to his arse again, pacing the hits just far enough apart for the pain to spike between them. John flinched and squirmed, his cock hard and shamefully wet. He did cry, as both his tormentors noted with delight, but he was barely aware that he did. All he could think of was Nick’s gaze on him, the hot flick of the switch on his skin, and the orgasm which built and built within him. Sanderson saw his arousal too, and tugged hard on his balls a time or two, but he was so far gone it didn’t help.

“He’s too close,” Sanderson said a little breathlessly, ceasing his blows. “Do you have what you want?”

“It’ll do,” Bill said, but he sounded satisfied.

Sanderson turned, carelessly throwing the switch aside and beginning to roll down his sleeves. “Then I believe it is time for my insurance policy. Up you get Nicholas, and take the petticoats off.” He bent and released John’s wrists.

“The photographs we have, while delightful, are not quite enough to be incriminating,” he continued. “These next however…”

“On your feet and sit on the chair,” Bill said to John. Trembling, John did so. “You get on his lap,” he said to Nick.

Shivering in the aftermath of Sanderson’s flogging, the warmth of his brother against him was the only thing that could have soothed John in that moment. He buried his face against Nick’s neck and Nick stroked his hair and his face, thumbing away tears.

“Turn to me,” Bill said. They did, Nick pillowing his cheek against John’s forehead, their arms still tight around each other. John’s cock was still hard as iron, and he could see that Nick’s wasn’t far off the same state.

“Could almost be twins in some ways,” Bill said, mostly to himself. “Should have dressed them as an angel and a demon.”

Sanderson’s insurance policy was thorough. They were captured kissing - first on the mouth, then with John’s lips against Nick’s throat. Then kissing while they touched each other. Then Nick laid down on a scatter of cushions and fingered by John until he whimpered with desperation. Nick with his tongue against the head of John’s cock, then holding it in his mouth while John fought desperately not to explode. And finally they had to fuck.

Bill seemed to take forever coaxing them into the right position. He wanted Nick on his back. He played with binding Nick’s wrists with a scarf, with unfastening the corset a little, the flowers on and off his head, but wasn’t satisfied until he at last had Nick entirely naked and unadorned, holding himself open as his brother breached him.

“Just the head inside him,” Bill warned. “And hold still both of you. I must get the light right.”

John felt sweat roll down between his shoulder blades as he held the position. It was torture to have only the tip of his cock inside the wet heat of his brother. His cock was so sensitive and he’d been hard so long, and Nick was laid out beneath him in all his creamy skinned beauty waiting to be taken. Nick too seemed to hover on the edge of climax. His breathing was slow but deep, his cock dark and jutting straight from his body, his eyes almost pleading with John. Every minute seemed an eternity as Bill fussed with the lamps and adjusted the backdrop.

Nick made a tiny movement with his hips and John felt his cock slide a fraction further inside. With a small moan he thrust forward and Nick arched to meet him, panting.

“Get you cock back out of your brother, John,” Sanderson drawled. “I won’t tell you again.”

Shaking, John withdrew to his former position. Nick made another small sound, his fingers tightening against the cushions he lay on. A bead of sweat had gathered on his top lip and he licked it away.

Bill was back behind his camera at last. John watched the flash of the bulb reflect over and over in his brother’s eyes as he held back with everything he had. But Bill paused again to change the plates and John only shifted a tiny amount to relieve the pressure on his knees, but it was too much for Nick.

“Coming,” he managed as he canted his hips up and John slipped further inside him. Nick wrapped his legs tight around John and John thrust in deep, feeling Nick clench around him so tightly he almost pushed John out. He got a hand onto Nick’s cock and another in his hair and then they were fucking wildly, unable to stop themselves. Nick’s cock pulsed and shot his seed between them and John came with a helpless shout a second after. They held each other, panting.

“Well, that’s that then,” Bill said, sounding peeved.

John raised his head to look at Sanderson, afraid of what penalty they’d have to pay for this. But Sanderson seemed distracted again.

“If you haven’t got what you needed then you’ve only yourself to blame,” Sanderson said shortly. Bill snorted and began to pack his things.

Nick and John untangled themselves and disappeared next door to dress again. Once done, they hovered at the office door, as Bill and Sanderson were deep in conversation.

Bill lowered his voice, but John still caught what he said.

“You wished some reprints of a personal set of photographs made,” he said, drawing an envelope from the case. “The set with the young man ‘F’?”

Sanderson said nothing, only snatched the envelope from him.

“Might I ask…” Bill said. “What became of the original prints?”

“They dropped into the fire,” Sanderson muttered, peering into the envelope. “Accident.” He went silent as he looked through its contents.

John was unsure whether they were being allowed to leave. “Sir,” he said at last.

Sanderson looked up as though confused to be addressed. “Yes, yes - get out,” he said, waving a hand. John took Nick’s arm and turned to leave.

“Wait…” Sanderson said. John turned back.

“I don’t wish to see either of you tomorrow. Not even at your desk, Nicholas.” A frown pinched between Sanderson’s eyebrows. “You can resume paying your debt the day after.”

“Yes sir,” Nick said, and pushed John gently towards the door.

“Those photographs must have been of his lover,” Nick whispered to John on the way down the dark stairs. “And now he’s even more heartbroken and wants to be alone.”

Nick’s insistence on Sanderson having enough human feeling to have a broken heart baffled and charmed John. He pushed Nick gently against the wall of the stairwell and gave him a number of soft kisses to express that.

“A whole day’s rest tomorrow,” Nick whispered. “How shall we pass the time?”

“Let’s go straight home and have a good think about it,” John said, pushing open the door at the foot of the stairs.

It was brass monkeys outside and John folded his arms around himself, wondering if they should stop somewhere for a bite before taking the walk home in the cold.

But a figure emerged from the shadows and stood in front of them, blocking their way. Nick grabbed John’s arm.

“Goodness, there’s two of you,” the figure said.


	12. Freddie's offer

John blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dark of the street.   
  
“I’m a friend of Mr Sanderson’s and I’d like a word with you,” the man said. It was Freddie, of course. John remained mute.   
  
“Come along then,” Freddie said. John stayed where he was, and Nick drew closer to him.   
  
Freddie made an exasperated sound. “Lawson,” he said over his shoulder, and a large figure joined him.   
  
“What do you want?” John said, eyeing Freddie’s companion with trepidation.   
  
“For heaven’s sake, I don’t mean to harm you. I merely need to talk to you,” Freddie said. “It will be to both our benefits, believe me. Now come in here.”  
  
He indicated the Public House opposite.   
  
“We haven’t any money,” John hedged.   
  
“That much is clear,” Freddie said. He turned sharply and crossed to the door of the pub. Lawson brought up the rear, herding John and Nick before him.   
  
“Do you think he wants to fuck us too?” Nick whispered to John.   
  
“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “I don’t think so.”  
  
Freddie, with the innate arrogance of someone who always got what he wanted, sent Lawson to evict the current occupants of a comfortable snug. Then Lawson went to the bar, and Nick and John slid into the seats opposite Freddie.   
  
Freddie examined them thoroughly, his sharp eyes darting from Nick to John and back again. John examined him back, from the shining sweep of fair hair to the rich gold of the wedding band on his manicured hand.   
  
“Brothers?” Freddie said.   
  
John hesitated then nodded.   
  
“Well Nathaniel; this is something new,” Freddie said to himself. “You usually offer your services together then?”  
  
“We’re not whores, sir,” John said. “We owe Mr Sanderson money.”   
  
“Really?” Freddie said with a surprised smile. “What a delightful arrangement.”  
  
Lawson appeared with drinks for them all - gin for Nick and John and claret for Freddie - but disappeared to the bar again. John drank off his gin in one draught while Nick sipped at his.   
  
“Tell me how this all came about,” Freddie demanded. John sat mute. Freddie sighed and pulled out a ten shilling note. “Come now; I’m intrigued. Nathaniel does not usually show such benevolence to his debtors.”  
  
Three week’s wages in the warehouse, John thought, as he began. Easy money.   
  
But the ten shillings wasn’t earned with a simple explanation. John was forced to go into excruciating detail, and Freddie seemed to know if John was stinting on particulars. A flush rose to his delicate skin as he listened to John, his eyes darkening.   
  
“Good lord,” he said, as John finished describing the photographic session. “What would your mother say?”  
  
John didn’t answer. All his mother would have cared about was whether they’d been adequately paid for it, he thought. He felt Nick shift in his seat, and heard his stomach rumble. He most likely hadn’t eaten since lunch time.   
  
“If that’s all sir, then we’ll go. We’ve not had dinner yet,” John said, the gin leaving him more exhausted than before.   
  
Freddie made a small irritated sound and waved a hand at Lawson, who came over.   
  
“They wish to be fed now, apparently,” he said with distaste. “Get them...whatever one eats in this place. It is beyond me to hazard a guess by the smell from the kitchen.” Lawson departed.   
  
“You don’t need to feed us,” John said, palming the ten shilling note. “This is enough.”  
  
“I haven’t finished with you yet,” Freddie said.   
  
A barman came over with two greasy plates of stew, banging them down on the table before Nick and John. Freddie leant back in horror as a spot of gravy almost hit his pale grey coat.   
  
The stew was thin but there was plenty of it, and coarse bread to go with it. John and Nick ate silently and quickly and Freddie watched with slight distaste.   
  
“Now listen here,” Freddie said when the plates were empty. “I mean to help you. Well, help us both. Tell me what you have planned after you’ve repaid the debt.”  
  
“Well,” John said, not wanting to share his fleeting thoughts about the photographs in the cabinet. “I hope to find warehouse work again now my shoulder has healed, and Nick can continue where he is.”  
  
Freddie gave a loud laugh. “My dears, Nick will be out on his ear as soon as Nathaniel has pulled his cock out of him. Don’t be ludicrous.”  
  
“But why should I be dismissed? I haven’t done anything wrong!” Nick burst out.   
  
“Oh, it speaks does it?” Freddie said, narrowing his eyes at Nick. Nick was just as beautiful as Freddie, John thought, and would be quite his equal if he’d the same hairdresser, manicurist and tailor as the young lord opposite. John could see that Freddie recognised a rival and that he didn’t like it.   
  
“Yes, I can speak,” Nick said, a trifle sulkily. John wanted to kiss his pouting mouth.   
  
Freddie leant forward. “Tell me, Nicholas, do you like what Mr Sanderson does to you?”  
  
“I like it when he kisses me,” Nick said defiantly. Freddie looked fleetingly sad before resuming his neutral expression.   
  
“How romantic,” he said, acidly. “What about the rest?”   
  
Nick hesitated then shook his head.   
  
“Quite. The problem with Nathaniel is that he needs to be with someone as deviant as he is. Your tears and discomfort are amusing to him now, but he’ll bore of them - he always does. So while he might keep you around for a week or two afterwards as a sweet little distraction, it won’t last. I’ve seen it all before.”  
  
Nick swallowed. It hadn’t occured to him - to either of them - that Sanderson might continue to fuck Nick after the debt was repaid. But of course he would. And John wouldn’t be present to deflect the worst of it.   
  
“So I must ask again - what are your intentions after all this is over?”  
  
Nick cast a look at John.   
  
“So nothing, then. You know it baffles me how either of you have achieved adulthood,” Freddie said, draining his glass and waving it at Lawson to get him another. “I’d have thought you’d have learned some kind of survival instinct, growing up in the gutter.”  
  
“We’ve survived worse than you’ve ever had to deal with,” John said.  
  
“But this idea of blackmail, I’ve never heard anything so ill-conceived, I mean…”  
  
“I’d love to see the plan you’d concoct if you hadn’t eaten in two whole days,” John retorted. “I doubt you could rouse yourself from the couch you’d fainted upon.”  
  
Freddie smiled with genuine amusement at that. “Such cheek,” he said, and patted John’s hand.   
  
Nick cast him a sharp look.   
  
“Well, never mind all that. I have a plan - conceived on a full stomach, might I add,” Freddie said. “And I’ll need your help. And afterwards, I’ll expect you to disappear.”  
  
“What do you mean?” John said.   
  
“Change lodgings at the very least. Oh, I can arrange that, good heavens,” as John began to protest. “But you certainly shouldn’t be anywhere that Nathaniel can find you.”  
  
“This doesn’t sound like it will benefit us at all,” Nick said, and there was an edge to his voice John had rarely heard.   
  
“Well, that depends on what you think of as benefit,” Freddie said icily. “How does better lodgings, your photographs in your own hands and enough money to start afresh sound?”  
  
“And a fear Mr Sanderson will find us for the rest of our lives,” said John.   
  
Freddie scoffed. “I think you’re overstating your importance a little,” he said. “Nathaniel will forget about you before long, believe me. I intend to give him endless distraction.”  
  
“Go on then,” Nick said, folding his arms.  
  
Freddie gave him a look, then, lowering his voice he told them.   
  
“I intend you to show Nathaniel that no good can come from associating with rough trade such as yourselves. To that end, I wish you to attack him, overpower him, and attempt a robbery. I will then come to his aid, saving his life, his reputation, and his collection of blackmail material.”  
  
John began to laugh. “ _Us_ attack Mr Sanderson?” he said incredulously. “He’d beat us half to death without blinking. Didn’t you listen to a word I told you? He…”  
  
“Your trouble,” Freddie drawled, unmoved by John’s outburst, “Is that you haven’t any imagination. You cannot see anything beyond his domination of you. But there are ways to make Nathaniel quite helpless, believe me.”  
  
“And we’re just supposed to trust you?” John said. “How do we know you won’t give us to the police?”  
  
“Because if the police begin to investigate your robbery, they will find Nathaniel’s collection and I’ll be incriminated along with you, him, and several close friends of mine,” Freddie said. “Do use your head.”  
  
John wished he could, but he was tired and Freddie seemed several steps ahead of him at every turn.   
  
“Would we have to hurt him?” Nick said.   
  
“Not very much,” Freddie said.   
  
“Just enough for him to want your love and comfort,” Nick said thoughtfully.   
  
Freddie looked momentarily unnerved.  
  
“Explain how we’d do it then,” John said.   
  
Freddie gave one of his disarming smiles. “With pleasure,” he said, and began.   
  
The explanation took a while. Several drinks later, Freddie insisted on taking them to their boarding house in his carriage. “Come along, John, your brother is asleep on his feet. It’s on my way in any case.”  
  
But when the carriage reached their door and John moved to leave it, Freddie stopped him with his cane.   
  
“What are you doing?” John said.   
  
“Your brother will be up in a moment,” Freddie said to Nick.   
  
“I can wait for him,” Nick said, glaring at Freddie.   
  
“Not in here you can’t,” Freddie said tartly.   
  
“Go on Nick, I won’t be far behind you,” John said, mind racing.   
  
Nick gave John a sorrowful look and left the carriage.  
  
John turned to Freddie who gave him a slow smile.   
  
“Do you need, um…” John. Freddie continued to look him over as the silence lengthened.   
  
“I’ve been thinking,” Freddie said at last, and John swallowed.


	13. A day off

“I _have_ been thinking rather a lot about those rough hands of yours,” Freddie went on.  
  
He moved suddenly and pressed himself against John. “ What is your occupation again?”  
  
“Labouring in a warehouse,” John said hoarsely. He could smell Freddie’s shaving soap and his cologne, and the faint scent of lavender from his clothes.   
  
“Mmmm,” Freddie said. “Lucky Nicholas. Shut up all day in that stuffy clerking room, coming home to his brawny brother. Do you bathe before you fuck him, or do you just have him as you are, all grime and sweat?”  
  
“I don’t…” John began, but then thought best to go along with Freddie’s fantasy. “As I am. As soon as I’m through the door.”  
  
“Oh,” Freddie breathed. “And he lets you, does he?”  
  
“Can’t stop me,” John said.   
  
“And if he tried?” Freddie said, his mouth a hairsbreadth from John’s. His hand crept up John’s thigh and squeezed.   
  
“Then I’d have to show him what’s what,” John said.   
  
“Why don’t you show _me_ ,” Freddie murmured, grazing his lips over John’s.   
  
John had played like this with a lover before.   
  
“Well I don’t kiss for starters,” he said, letting his accent slip into the rougher one he used at the warehouse. He felt Freddie’s shiver of anticipation, and shoved him to the floor of the carriage.   
  
Freddie let out an excited gasp as John straddled him, wrenching open the perfectly tailored coat and pushing it off his shoulders so that his arms were trapped behind him. Freddie made a good attempt at a struggle, but John - especially after three large gins - was more than a match for him. Freddie stilled, his breath coming fast in anticipation. John looked down at him.   
  
He’d no doubt suck John’s cock like he was born to it, but John couldn’t bring himself to make him. All he’d wanted tonight was to fall into bed with Nick wrapped around him, and have a well earned sleep. Yet here he was having to pleasure another damned man with a hold over him.   
  
With a surge of annoyance he ripped open Freddie’s trousers.   
  
“Is this how you treat your brother?” Freddie said, voice thick with arousal.   
  
“If he don’t behave,” John said, his hand closing around Freddie’s cock. Everything about the man was smooth and perfumed.   
  
Freddie moaned and arched up.   
  
“Hold your noise,” John said, moving his hand roughly up and down Freddie’s length. Freddie bit his lip obediently, closing his eyes. He was a beautiful sight, and if John had been in a different humour then perhaps he’d have appreciated it. But all he could think of was how much he wanted to be in his own soft bed, kissing Nick’s soft mouth. Well, he could make Freddie suffer for it at least.   
  
He slowed his hand to a teasing pace. Freddie began to move his hips, trying to thrust into John’s grip. John made it hard for him. Let him chase it a bit, the lazy rich sod. John clamped his thighs more tightly around Freddie, making it more difficult for him to move, and Freddie whimpered with frustration.   
  
“I’ve told you to keep quiet,” John said. “I’d give Nick a slap for that.”  
  
Freddie dragged his eyes open at that, and looked at John, breathing hard. John’s hand tightened around Freddie’s cock and Freddie moaned again, looking him provocatively in the eye.   
  
John slapped him across the face. Freddie’s head snapped to the side, the mark of John’s hand apparent even in the dark of the carriage.   
  
“Oh fucking _Christ_ ,” Freddie gasped, thrusting up into John’s hand helplessly. His cock was leaking over John’s fingers, hard as iron under the silk of his skin. John backhanded him across the other cheek and Freddie gave a choked sob.   
  
“Fuck. Oh god, let me suck you, let me…please...” he babbled. John had no intention of that, but jammed two of his fingers so deep into Freddie’s mouth that he gagged.   
  
“Filthy tart,” he remarked and Freddie moaned around his fingers, sucking hard. “You’d let just anyone have you, wouldn’t you? Perhaps I should take you down the warehouse next, see what the lads there make of you.” He shoved his fingers deeper into Freddie’s mouth, tugging at his cock as roughly as he could.   
  
“They’d make short work of you arse, that’s for certain,” he said. “But you’d like that.”  
  
Freddie gave a groan and bucked up hard beneath him. John gave his cock a last vicious twist and he shuddered all over and came copiously over John’s fist.  
  
They broke apart, John releasing Freddie and Freddie struggling to free his arms. John wiped his hand slowly and deliberately down the immaculate grey coat.   
  
“You utter shit. I haven’t paid the tailor for this yet,” Freddie said with wry amusement as he hauled himself onto the carriage seat and dabbed at himself with a handkerchief.   
  
“That was surprisingly good,” he added. “If I wasn’t quite so enamoured of Nathaniel I believe I’d be rather jealous of Nicholas.”  
  
Tucking the handkerchief away he leant over and threw the carriage door open. That would be John’s cue to leave, he supposed.   
  
“You’ll be hearing from me tomorrow,” Freddie said abruptly, and thumped on the carriage roof with his cane. John stumbled out as the carriage set off almost before he’d alighted. It rumbled off through the filth of the cobbled street.   
  
John gave a small groan of exhaustion and pushed open the boarding house door. He dragged his weary body upstairs to their room.   
  
Nick was sitting bolt upright in bed waiting for him.   
  
“Did you…” Nick said, eyes large and fixed on John’s. John sighed and nodded.   
  
“Sorry darling,” he said to Nick. “I didn’t want to.”  
  
Nick gave a tight smile. “Was he very beautiful?”   
  
“All I saw was his cock,” John said.   
  
“And what was that like?” Nick said.  
  
John grinned at Nick’s barely concealed jealousy. “Perfumed and powdered,” he said, going over to the washstand. He poured cold water from the pitcher into the bowl and undressing quickly, he washed all over. Christ it was cold. The soap would barely lather but he got clean at last. Shivering, he leapt into the bed and pulled Nick down beside him.   
  
“I didn’t like it,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to Nick’s at last. “All I want is you.”  
  
“What did he make you do?” Nick said, kissing him back.   
  
“Just use my hand on him. I don’t want to talk about him any more,” John said. “Just kiss me.”  
  
Nick did, his mouth tasting of tooth powder and gin. They kissed lazily for a while, John feeling a low pulse of desire mixed with relief at the comfort and familiarity. At last he pulled his mouth from Nick’s with a sigh and kissed his hair, wrapping his arms around him.   
  
“It’s hard to remember all our troubles when we’re in here,” Nick whispered.   
  
“We have all day tomorrow together,” John said, holding him tight. “And ten shillings in our coffers. I’m going to take you out and treat you any way you want.”  
  
“It will be hard to remember I shouldn’t touch you out in public,” Nick said.   
  
“I’ll touch you all you want before we leave,” John promised. “Anything you want.”  
  
“I might surprise you with what I want,” Nick said, snuggling up against John, his eyes drifting closed.

John woke the next morning with Nick curled around him and his morning erection pressing into John’s hip. They had slept soundly - the sun was already up, shining through the frost patterns on the window. His breath clouded. He should get up and light the fire, but he was loathe to leave the warm haven of their bed.   
  
He kissed Nick gently on the forehead and his brother stirred, his erection still insistent.   
  
“I want to know what you’re dreaming about,” John teased, running a finger lightly along it.   
  
Nick gave a tiny moan of pleasure. “Don’t remember. Don’t stop doing that.”   
  
“Just this?” John said, running his finger gently along Nick’s cock again. “That’s all you want?”  
  
“N-no…” Nick said, trying to rub himself against John. John laughed softly.   
  
“What then? We have all day after all.” John moved, pressing his lips to Nick’s throat. His skin was so soft there. He nipped at him gently. Nick sighed and rolled onto his back. John followed him, kissing his way back up to Nick’s mouth.   
  
“I want…” Nick murmured, arching beneath John. “You.”  
  
They kissed on, a lazy exploration of each other’s mouths that John couldn’t remember them having had time for before. Nick kissed so tenderly that John felt a surge of protectiveness and an urge to give him anything he wanted.   
  
“How do you want me?” he said. He ran a hand up Nick’s side feeling his warm skin beneath his palm. Nick wrapped his arms around John’s neck. He opened his eyes and looked at John steadily, his chest rising and falling.  
  
“I want to fuck you,” he said, a blush rising to his cheeks. John swallowed.   
  
He did love to be fucked. But this was… _Nick_. In a strange way, John had thought that if Nick wasn’t doing the fucking, John was protecting him. From the sin of it. But in this moment, his reasoning seemed nonsensical.   
  
Shaking his head a little, John smiled. “You know I like you to have what you want,” he said.   
  
Nick’s face relaxed. “You want it too,” he said.   
  
“Very much,” John said, feeling himself grow hard as iron.   
  
Nick blushed again. “I want you under me,” he said.   
  
“What else?” John said hoarsely, kissing him again.   
  
“I just want to be inside you,” Nick said, and John’s mouth dried with desire.   
  
He rolled onto his back, taking Nick with him, and looked up at him, seeing the morning sun catch his pretty hair and light up his eyes. _Your beloved brother. Must you drag him further into sin?_  
  
But what had God cared about his brother when they’d been starved? Or when their mother had sent him begging? No one had cared but John. He loved his brother every way there was to love a person, that was all.   
  
And sweet Jesus, he was about to be fucked by the loveliest boy there ever was.   
  
Nick kissed him, gentle and slow, and John let himself be pressed into the mattress by his brother’s slight body, feeling his cock rub against his own. Just this was enough, the feel of Nick stretched against him, skin against skin, their legs tangled together.   
  
But then Nick kissed him harder and pushed John’s legs apart and John moaned with sweet anticipation. Nick reached for the ointment and John let out a shaky breath as he watched his brother prepare himself, his movements deft and confident. That he could have come from a nervous virgin to this in only a matter of days.   
  
Nick was breathing hard. “Here,” he said, trying to hand John the small jar.   
  
“You do it Nick,” John said, shifting his legs. “I want to feel you.”  
  
Nick dipped a slim finger into the jar. “It’s a little cold.”  
  
And _oh_ it was, but it felt wonderful. Nick circled his finger around John’s hole and then gently pressed into him. John pushed back and felt himself grip around the finger, and Nick slid it out and then back in again.   
  
“More,” John managed. Nick added a finger, continuing the slow slide in and out of John’s body. Lord, he’d let Nick breach him with his whole hand if he wanted. It wasn’t just the feel of his brother inside him, but the way he was looking down at John, his pupils so wide and dark, his lips apart, and his own erection hard against his stomach, already wet.   
  
John pushed back against the two fingers inside him, fucking himself onto them. “R-ready,” he managed, though that was an understatement. He was so ready he’d likely spend any second and then again straight after. “Nick, now...you can, now…”  
  
“Let me play with you,” Nick said, teasing. He looked both delighted and surprised at the effect he was having on John. “I love that I can make you feel like this.” He rocked his fingers a little and John stifled a shout of pleasure with his hand. He arched up as Nick did it again.   
  
“Oh, oh sweetheart. I’ll spend,” he gasped out.   
  
“If you do, can you still stand to be fucked?” Nick said curiously, not stopping.   
  
John nodded, hardly able to speak.  
  
“Then let me play,” Nick said again, and carried on. He fucked John gently with his fingers, stopping now and again to cup his balls and give John’s leaking cock a tug. John could only moan helplessly. He thought of how he wanted more mornings like this, where they had time to explore each other. He thought of how he’d like to take Nick in his mouth, suck his balls, and lick his way down to Nick’s hole. How Nick would love it, how he’d writhe and gasp.   
  
Nick was fingering him faster now and John could feel himself clenching around him. He was going to spill. There were two fingers in him and John was spread out like a whore, and oh lord, he was going to finish just like that, all over himself, as Nick watched.   
  
“I’m going to spend,” he said stupidly, as if that wasn’t Nick’s purpose. “You…you’ll make me spend.”  
  
“Yes,” Nick breathed. “I want to watch.”  
  
John hardly knew what he was saying any more, and he didn’t know if anyone had ever looked at him the way Nick was looking at him that moment. All he could think of were the fingers in his arse and the look in his brother’s eyes.   
  
“Look at how hard you are,” Nick said, half in wonder, and took him in a tight fist.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” John said, arching up off the bed.   
  
“You want more of that,” Nick said, teasing again, and tugged John’s cock fast and hard.   
  
John arched again and again and then came with a cry, his spend shooting over his own chest. He didn’t know how long he came for but when Nick took his fingers away he felt his hole still clenching and his cock still half hard. He wanted more.   
  
“Inside me, Nick. Please,” he begged.   
  
He rolled over onto his front and spread his legs.   
  
Nick didn’t pause. He shifted forwards, lining his cock up against John. “Do I just push?” he said, hesitant.   
  
“Yes, I won’t let you hurt me. Just push into me, I’ll take you,” John said.  
  
“I’ve seen what you can take,” Nick said, and pushed forward.   
  
John took him, right to the hilt. They moaned in unison at the feeling of it, the perfect way their bodies seemed to fit together.   
  
“You’re so tight,” Nick said breathlessly. “I’ll never last.”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” John said, almost incoherent. “Do anything, just fuck me now, please.”  
  
Nick didn’t need to be told twice. He began fucking John in slow, steady thrusts, gasping at the feel of it. “Johnnie,” he managed, stopping to catch his breath. “Feels so lovely.”  
  
“Don’t stop,” John begged. “Want you right inside me when you finish.”  
  
“I want to feel you...uh,” Nick stopped, panting. “You said nothing feels better than being deep in a boy who’s coming on your cock because you made him. I want to make you.”  
  
John moaned at his words. “Just...ah. K-keep doing that. And...and strike me.”  
  
“Hit you?” Nick said. “Like…” he gave John a quick, sharp slap on his arse.   
  
John swore and pushed back onto him. “Yes, like that, like that,” he said, all shame gone. “Do it hard darling.”  
  
Nick obeyed and John could barely stand how good it felt. With every smack of Nick’s hand he felt himself clamp down, could hear his own wanton moans. Nick was gasping with pleasure, and John knew he’d never last, not with how tight John must feel around him. He gave himself over to how it all felt, the sting of Nick’s hand and his sweet little prick inside him, fucking him closer and closer to a climax. He wrapped a hand around himself and tugged hard and fast, trying to muffle his moans against his arm.   
  
“You like that don’t you, you like it so much,” Nick gasped, slapping his hand down hard again.   
  
”Yes, oh _yes,”_ John moaned and started to come again.  
  
Nick gripped John’s tender skin and rammed himself deep inside him, coming too. They rocked together like that, Nick giving trembling little gasps of pleasure until John’s arms gave way and they both tumbled onto the bed.   
  
“Goodness,” said an aristocratic voice.   
  
John turned to see Freddie and Lawson in the doorway, a key dangling from Freddie’s gloved finger.   
  
“You really _do_ fuck each other. I thought it was just a gimmick to get Nathaniel going. How delightfully perverted.”  
  
“What the hell are you doing here?” John demanded.


	14. Freddie pays a visit

“Now, now,” Freddie said, crossing the room and perching daintily on the bed. Lawson closed the door behind them.   
  
Freddie reached over and stroked a hand over John’s arse. “Pretty,” he said. Then giving it a light slap, he stood again. “But not entirely why I’m here.”  
  
“How did you get in?” Nick demanded, pulling a blanket over both of them. John turned over and Nick put a proprietary arm around his shoulders.   
  
Freddie’s eyes narrowed. “I think it’s about time that you started addressing me as Lord Bentham,” he said.   
  
“How did you get in, _Lord Bentham_ ,” Nick asked again, in a saucy tone John didn’t think he’d ever heard him use before.   
  
“I asked that old prostitute downstairs for a key,” Freddie said. “Just as well I didn’t let her come up and let me in, isn’t it?”  
  
Their landlady was most likely an old prostitute, John reflected, and probably wouldn’t have batted an eyelid to find John impaled on Nick’s cock. She’d have just doubled their rent and left it at that.   
  
“We have a day off,” John said. “And we’ve many things we’d like to do with it. So state your business if you please.”  
  
“It’s funny how much more arousing rudeness is coming from you,” Freddie said with a dangerous little smile. “He was terribly rude to me last night too,” he said conversationally to Nick. “Slapped me around and called me a tart. Threatened to take me to the docks for a seeing to by all his friends. He _has_ got rough hands, hasn’t he? I spent terribly hard; almost saw stars.”  
  
John felt Nick’s hand clench on his shoulder. He put his own hand on Nick’s thigh and squeezed gently. Freddie continued to smile, his perfect white teeth almost predatory.   
  
“Well, to business then,” he said. “Now you know you can’t stay here beyond tonight. Not if you do what we planned. And you _will_ do it,” he added.   
  
“I want some kind of guarantee,” John said. “You might make us both homeless and deprive Nick of his job. I…I want something written down.”  
  
“You won’t be getting that,” Freddie said. “I’m not quite that stupid. But here,” he turned to Lawson and beckoned to him. Lawson stepped forward, drawing an envelope from inside his coat.   
  
“Keys to your new home and the direction,” Freddie said, taking it from Lawson and dropping it onto the bed. “A monetary reward will follow _if_ Nathaniel welcomes me back into his arms. And in any case as I told you, there is enough blackmail material in his cabinet to sustain you for years. You’ll be quite alright.”  
  
John reached out a hand for the envelope but Freddie didn’t hand it to him. He sat up, the blanket falling away from his nakedness, and grabbed for it. Freddie eyed him.   
  
“We shan’t see each other again after this,” he said, a little regretfully. “I did rather want to play with your cock. Lawson, have we time?”  
  
Lawson nodded assent.   
  
John looked from Lawson to Freddie. Would Lawson just stand silently as his employer touched John?  
  
“We’re not whores you know!” Nick burst out, his face pink with rage.   
  
“John might not be, but you certainly are. I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole,” Freddie said. He looked at John again. “Come along then. Let the dog see the rabbit.”  
  
A crash and a series of shouts came from the street below. Lawson strolled over to look out of the window.  
  
“Someone giving the carriage driver a bit of bother sir,” he said.   
  
Freddie made a sound of impatience. “Go down and sort it out,” he ordered. “Take the little slut with you, he can speak their language.”  
  
“I fucking _won’t_ ,” Nick said, vehemently.   
  
“Come along sir,” Lawson said, polite but firm. He folded his arms and John could see the bulge of muscle there, even through his coat.   
  
Nick swallowed. Casting a mournful look at John he stood and began dressing. John saw that Lawson watched Nick like a hawk, expression impassive but a small flush rising to his face as Nick fastened his cock away beneath his smallclothes.   
  
Freddie didn’t look at Nick at all.   
  
The noise in the street below had become a cacophony, with the drunks from the Old Tom across the road joining in with the shouts. Lawson took Nick firmly by the arm and marched him from the room and presumably downstairs.   
  
John looked back at Freddie. “Will he try anything?” he asked.   
  
“Will he touch your brother do you mean? No,” Freddie said. “Lawson only likes to watch. He’d have enjoyed that little display he made of getting dressed though. Anyway, why do you care? You’re about to touch me.”  
  
“Am I indeed?” John said belligerently. “News to me.”  
  
“Perhaps more the other way around,” Freddie said silkily. He tugged the blanket away from John’s body and John shivered.   
  
“Doubt you’ll get much out of me,” he said rudely. “Nick just made me come twice.”  
  
“I’m considerably more skilled than Nicholas, thank you,” Freddie said tartly.   
  
Suddenly the thought of Freddie pawing at his cock was more repulsive that he could bear. Beautiful as he was, he wasn’t Nick, and Nick was all he wanted these days. And John had had enough of being at the mercy of rich men.   
  
He stood, shoving Freddie off-balance and sending him onto his knees by the bed. Freddie gave a small gasp but made no attempt to get up.   
  
John stood over him. “Take yourself out,” he said as roughly as he could.   
  
Freddie made quick work of the buttons of his own fly, not taking his eyes off John as he drew his already hard cock out. He held it, not moving his hand, breathlessly waiting for John’s next instruction.   
  
“That it fully hard?” he said dismissively. “Not much to it, is there?”  
  
“More than your brother has,” Freddie said, but his eyes had gone dark with arousal at John’s words, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips.   
  
John said nothing to that, just picked up a wooden chair and set it in front of Freddie. Then he sat on it, still naked, and looked Freddie up and down.   
  
“Get on with it then, if you’re going to,” he said. “But not a fucking hand on me.”  
  
“With…with my mouth?” Freddie breathed. He had started to move his hand up and down his own shaft.   
  
John gave him a brief nod and spread his legs. He wasn’t at all hard, but the way Freddie was looking at him was beginning to change that. The spoilt little Lord was much more attractive to John on his knees, apparently.   
  
Freddie bent his head to his work, licking and sucking his way along John’s length before nosing downwards and taking his balls one by one into his mouth. John let his head fall back against the chair. “Considerably more skilled” was an understatement. He’d never been sucked like this in his life. He felt himself thickening against Freddie’s tongue and Freddie had begun making little desperate moaning noises as he sucked John in deeper.   
  
He shifted, thrusting upwards a little. Freddie made a pleased little noise and pressed forward, taking John all the way into his mouth. John felt his cock hit against the back of his throat and waited for him to gag and pull back. Instead he felt Freddie swallowing and his cock sliding into Freddie’s throat. Freddie’s eyes fluttered closed, then he forced them open again as though John had ordered him to, and looked up.   
  
Any thought of giving orders had long left John’s head. Sweet Jesus, he had a Lord before him on his knees, swallowing John’s cock down like he’d been born to it, taking John’s length effortlessly. John canted his hips up, the final inch sliding home and forcing Freddie’s nose into the dark hair at his crotch. Freddie made a choking noise and jerked back a little before pushing his mouth back down again as far as he could go.   
  
“Oh… _Christ_ ,” John groaned, arching. He was somehow close to coming again, however uninterested his cock had been only a handful of minutes before. He clutched the edges of the chair, fucking himself into that well-bred, vicious mouth, ramming into his throat and enjoying the strangled sounds Freddie was making a good deal too much. Freddie pulled back, gasping for air, and John grabbed a handful of his sleek hair and pushed his head back into place. Freddie gave a helpless moan, his back arching, and John put his other hand under Freddie’s chin, impaling him entirely on his length.   
  
Freddie struggled and climaxed, hot seed spurting against John’s leg. He had lost the impeccable control of earlier, gagging now each time John thrust home, but still he did not pull off John’s cock. He let him fuck his mouth again and again until John finally shuddered and spent painfully hard.   
  
Freddie pulled off John’s cock in a slow slide, stopped to lick at the final drops of spend at the tip. John flinched with sensitivity. He grabbed Freddie’s hair and shoved his head lower.   
  
“You can clean up your mess,” he said, thinking that after such a lover as Sanderson, Freddie would expect nothing less.   
  
Freddie bent his head to the task immediately, lapping at the seed on John’s leg and then the floor. Finally he sat back on his heels and took out a silk handkerchief, wiping away the choke tears on his cheeks, then cleaning his own cock and hand.   
  
“That was rather marvellous,” he said, getting elegantly to his feet. He dusted at the knees of his trousers before giving up on it as a bad job. “It’s the accent I think; you sound like you might murder me at any moment.” He sighed. “How do you live in this filth? This floor is disgusting.”  
  
“I don’t usually spend much time licking it,” John said, standing and beginning to dress.   
  
“Oh well. I’ve swallowed worse in my time I’m sure,” Freddie said, straightening his coat, eyes never leaving John’s body. “You’re quite a nice little piece, aren’t you. Hairy too. I like it.”  
  
“Well you can forget about it,” John said, shrugging on his own coat. “Not part of our bargain.”  
  
“Pity. If Nathaniel agreed I’d let you fuck me any way you liked. C’est la vie.” Freddie turned his head at the sound of a sharp rap on the door. “Yes, come in,” he said.   
  
The door banged open and Nick stormed in, eyes snapping with fury. “Finished?” he demanded.   
  
Freddie smirked. “I must say I can see why you’re all territorial,” he said. “Like a filthy little dog with a bone. He’s _very_ good, isn’t he?”  
  
He pulled his gloves out of his pocket with a snap and began to pull them on. “Now. Get packed up. Lawson will collect your bags and transport them for you tomorrow while you’re with Nathaniel. Where is Lawson, by the way?”  
  
“Getting the carriage driver a gin. He was a touch shaken up,” Nick said.   
  
Freddie gave a small snort. “Lucky for you I’m moving you to Cheapside tomorrow. Imagine that being a step up in the world!”  
  
Retrieving his hat which had rolled half under the bed, he turned to go.   
  
“Remember John, if you ever change your mind…” he said with a flutter of his lashes.   
  
“I won’t,” John said, slipping his hand into Nick’s. Freddie shrugged and left without a backward glance, slamming the door behind him.


	15. The final stretch

John had spent the rest of their day off alternately showing Nick how much he preferred him to Freddie, and packing their belongings. They didn’t own much, but one of the things they didn’t own was any kind of trunk or case, so John made awkward bundles with string and sheets and blankets. They went to a chop house for lunch and afterwards they slept in front of an extravagant fire – all paid for with Freddie’s ten shillings – and when they awoke, John sucked his brother’s cock until he spent in John’s mouth, taking his time and enjoying Nick writhing beneath him.   
  
The next morning, Nick readied himself for work as usual.   
  
“One more day of this, darling,” John said, pressing a kiss to Nick’s clean-shaven jaw as he straightened his neck cloth. “Almost there. Just do as he tells you and I’ll be there at five like always. Then we’ll finish it.”  
  
Nick nodded, his face solemn.  
  
John felt anxious all day. He tried taking a walk, but it was too wet to be pleasant. He went to a public house, but didn’t want to be drunk later, so left again. Freddie had laid the plan out so simply, but what if something went wrong? He’d need his wits about him.   
  
At last the time drew near and John set off for the Shipping offices. All was dark when he arrived, even though the bells had only just rung out for five o’clock. What could have happened? Had Sanderson closed the office for the day? But then if so, where was Nick? He blundered through the dark of the Clerks room and saw a light beneath Sanderson’s door. He stopped for a moment, listening.   
  
He could hear Nick gasping. “I can’t sir,” he was saying. “I can’t manage this one.”  
  
“Now now,” Sanderson said, in those gentle tones which meant danger. “Concentrate on the task. It’s quite simple.”  
  
John pushed the door open so hard it swung against the wall.   
  
Sanderson straightened up from where he had been leaning over Nick and sent John a nasty smile. “Nick had a good deal of work to catch up on,” he said.   
  
“Nick?” John said, looking at his brother.   
  
Nick was completely naked, strapped down tightly against a chair by the throat. His ankles and wrists were tied to each other so that his legs were folded back - he was entirely exposed. His eyes were closed, and on the table beside him there were a collection of glass plugs in graduated sizes.   
  
“Nick and I agreed that he needed a little training,” Sanderson said. “I let everyone finish early today so we could begin.”  
  
John could see Nick’s legs trembling and his hole clenching around the plug currently inside him.   
  
Sanderson turned back to Nick. “You’d think you’d be a bit more relaxed by now. We’ve been at this for two hours,” he said. “Give it back to me.” He held his hand out.   
  
Nick looked up at him, his chest rising and falling. “I can’t,” he said. John’s stomach clenched.   
  
“You’re hurting him,” he said. Sanderson ignored him.   
  
“Can’t I…” John said, moving forward.   
  
“No, John you won’t be taking your brother’s place this time,” Sanderson said with an exasperated sigh. “We already know you can take any amount of cock and still beg for more. It’s Nicholas who’s almost too tight for comfort.”  
  
With a low moan, Nick pushed down on the plug. He almost successfully pushed it out of himself onto Sanderson’s waiting hand, but it was too difficult. He gave a little sob as it sank back into him.   
  
“That was an improvement,” Sanderson said.   
  
“It’s too big,” Nick said. He tugged on his restraints. “Please sir, no more. I took all the others.”  
  
“One more to go,” Sanderson said, unmoved by his pleading. “And you’ve been hard as iron since we began so I don’t believe you’re suffering all that much. Now, give it back to me.”  
  
Nick closed his eyes and obeyed. This time he managed to push it all the way out and Sanderson caught it, setting it aside. He grabbed Nick’s arse, spreading his cheeks and displaying his gaping hole.   
  
“Much better,” he said smugly, shoving three fingers roughly into Nick. “Much, much better.”  
  
Nick squirmed, his cock dripping against his stomach. Sanderson ran a finger through the mess.   
  
“That’s a sign of enjoyment I’d say,” he said, wiping his finger across Nick’s lips. “If you truly hated it you wouldn’t be reacting in this manner.”  
  
“I _do_ hate it,” Nick burst out. “I can’t help what my…”  
  
“Be quiet,” Sanderson snapped. Nick bit his lip and looked up, frightened. His throat worked against the tight strap around it.   
  
“Now you’ll take this final one in, all the way. I do not want to hear a single sound from you, unless it is to thank me. We already know you’re a slut so let us discard the pretence that you’re not getting any pleasure from this. Open your mouth.”  
  
Sanderson lifted the final plug and Nick opened his mouth obediently, eyes wide with fear.   
  
The plug was as wide as a man’s fist and flared at the base. John couldn’t see how it would ever fit inside his younger brother. It certainly wasn’t going to fit into his mouth.   
  
Nick took as much of it in as he could, gagging a little. Sanderson withdrew it and Nick licked every part of it he could reach, eyes never leaving Sanderson’s face. Sanderson was breathing a little faster at the sight of Nick’s submission, his arousal obvious beneath his clothing.   
  
“I like you tied like this,” he growled. “I might keep you like this for the rest of the evening.”

Nick closed his eyes again but continued to lick. John kept quiet, knowing that anything he said or did would only make things worse.   
  
“Now,” said Sanderson. He held the impossibly large plug aloft. “I think you’re ready.”  
  
John didn’t know how anyone’s body could be ready for that thing, least of all Nick’s. Nick shifted in his uncomfortable bonds, his lips pressed closed. He seemed determined not to make a sound.   
  
Sanderson slid the thing against Nick’s hole, gathering some of the oil he must have used on him earlier. Then he began to press it into him.   
  
Nick jerked as the tip of it breached him, a flush traveling up his chest to his face. He made no noise but John could see him clenching his hands. Sanderson paid little attention to this. He merely continued to press, rocking it a little. But the plug came out and slid away, and Sanderson made a small sound of frustration.   
  
“Open up,” he said, slapping Nick hard on the underside of his thigh. Nick bit his lip, closing his eyes. Sanderson slapped him on the other thigh for good measure.   
  
“Th-thank you sir,” Nick gasped.   
  
“Good. There’s no reason why you can’t take this, I’ve stretched you very thoroughly,” he said.   
  
He put the plug back in position and began to push again. Nick was shaking, John could see it even from the other side of the room. But he didn’t give in, and with a determined little frown he pushed back against it.   
  
“Oh yes, there we are,” Sanderson said as the plug slid half an inch further into Nick. His hole looked obscenely stretched as Sanderson screwed the thickest part of the plug into him. Still he remained silent, even as inch after inch went into him. John saw the sweat gathering at his temples.   
  
“What do you say?” Sanderson demanded.   
  
“Thank you sir,” said Nick, barely able to speak.  
  
The plug slid home at last, the base snug against Nick’s hole. John could see Nick’s muscles clenching as his body fought against this huge intrusion.  
  
“Now, lets get rid of some of your spend,” Sanderson said. “You’re a horrid, messy little thing, aren’t you?” He took hold of Nick’s cock and began to pull it in hard, painful tugs. “Coming around something this big will be quite the experience for you, I imagine.”  
  
Nick had begun to struggle. He desperately tried not to say anything or make a sound, but even though he bit his lip bloody, he couldn’t stop himself from begging.   
  
“Please don’t, please please don’t,” he moaned. “Oh sir…”  
  
“It’ll be over in a moment,” Sanderson said dispassionately. “You’re almost there.”  
  
Nick was desperately trying to get some relief, either by wrenching his cock from Sanderson’s grasp or pushing the plug out of himself. Sanderson was paying far too close attention to him to allow either thing to happen.   
  
“Calm down,” he said, putting a hand on Nick’s stomach and pushing him down against the chair. Nick stopped struggling and looked up and Sanderson, his hair damp with sweat. John wanted desperately to go over there and stroke it back from his face, kiss him and help him through the rest of this torment.   
  
Sanderson had eased his hand on Nick’s cock, stroking it gently now. Nick whimpered but stayed still and let him. The end of the plug shifted as his muscles clamped down on it, his orgasm building.   
  
“Look at me,” Sanderson said, and Nick raised his eyes to his. “I’m going to make you come, isn’t that nice?”  
  
“Thank you,” Nick whispered, trembling. “Thank you, sir.”  
  
“Good boy,” said Sanderson and Nick’s cock jerked against his hand. Sanderson smiled. “You really are a desperate little thing aren’t you? I can’t imagine why you aren’t at a Molly House making a fortune.”  
  
Nick would get better treatment at a Molly House, that was certain. John’s own hardness was barely a distraction as he watched Nick’s struggle. He’d long ago given up wondering what it was about pain and submission that made his cock so hard, he just willed Nick to finish and release himself from Sanderson’s game.   
  
He was close at least, and John looked on helplessly as Sanderson brought Nick to the brink of orgasm.   
  
“Ask me for it,” Sanderson said, his hand relentless.   
  
Nick panted, his struggles becoming more frantic. “Please sir…”  
  
“Are you sure you want to?” Sanderson teased. “That thing inside you is very large. It’s going to hurt.”  
  
“Please…” Nick moaned.  
  
“Not yet,” said Sanderson, and John could see he was only setting Nick up to fail.   
  
Nick did fail just a handful of seconds later, his spend shooting up and over his own stomach and chest. He let out a choked cry as he did, the plug moving within him as his muscles clamped down on it, and then pushing it out entirely.   
  
Sanderson laughed as the plug hit the floor and rolled away. He shoved his fingers into Nick who moaned again, trying to jerk away out of his reach.   
  
John forced himself out of his aroused daze. Sanderson was distracted and he needed to ensure things were set up for their plan to work. He looked around. There were the keys, and the drawer of Sanderson’s toys was open. Waiting until he was sure Sanderson was entirely focused on Nick, he quickly tugged out a set of handcuffs and slid them under some papers on the desk. Then, when Nick was begging particularly loudly, he leaned casually on the desk and pushed the keys off the edge of the desk onto the rug. _Right, then._ Now they could begin.


	16. A perilous plan

Sanderson pulled his fingers from Nick, leaving him stretched out and empty. He unfastened Nick’s bonds and Nick sat forward.  
  
“Enjoy that?” Sanderson said to John. John swallowed and moved closer.   
  
“Do you think he could take us both, sir?” he said. He tried to look as aroused as possible.   
  
Sanderson’s expression changed and John almost smiled in relief.   
  
“He has a weakness for sharing a boy’s hole with another man,” Freddie had told them.   
  
“You mean…” John had said.   
  
“I mean, you and Nathaniel both inside the slut at once,” Freddie had said. “It sends darling Nathaniel wild. Nothing makes him lose his reason more than that. I couldn’t manage it often because Nathaniel’s length is more than enough to take. But the times I could manage…well.” He had smiled at the memory.   
  
John looked at Sanderson’s expression now, hungry and wolfish. Freddie hadn’t been lying then.   
  
“Would you like that, sir?” John persisted. “Because Nick…”  
  
He looked at Nick.  
  
“Because Nicholas what?” Sanderson said, turning to look at Nick.   
  
“Johnnie, I didn’t mean for you to tell him,” Nick said in a petulant voice. Another knot of nerves in John’s stomach unravelled at how well Nick was acting the part.   
  
“But you do want it, don’t you?” John said. “You told me you think of it all the time. Tell him.”  
  
Nick looked up at Sanderson, his eyes wide and his face the picture of a trembling innocent.   
  
“No,” he said.   
  
“Speak up Nicholas,” Sanderson said. “It sounds like you might have something interesting to say for once.”  
  
Nick looked at him, then at John, then back to Sanderson again. Then he let his shoulders slump.   
  
“I told Johnnie I think of having you both inside me at once,” he said. “But it’s only to think about, when I’m touching myself. I didn’t mean…”  
  
Mr Sanderson’s eyes darkened. He wetted his lips. “What an interesting fantasy,” he said with one of his terrifying smiles.   
  
“But…” Nick said. Sanderson pulled Nick roughly to his feet.   
  
“Sir, _please,_ ” Nick said. “Not both. I could…I could have him in my mouth…”   
  
Sanderson wasn’t listening. “Undress yourself,” he barked at John.   
  
John held his breath as Sanderson moved towards the heavy chair John had fucked him in before. Thank god, all was as John had planned so far.   
  
Sanderson sat down in it, spreading his legs.   
  
Nick stood in front of him. In the candlelight he looked like an oil painting, until you looked more closely at the red marks on his wrists and ankles and noticed the strap around his throat.   
  
“Sir,” he said, his voice nearly a whine. Nothing could be more calculated to distract and irritate Sanderson. “It was only make believe. Please don’t make me.”  
  
Sanderson looked at Nick, his full length in his hand. “You can manage perfectly well. You took everything I put inside you earlier with barely a sound, so you can stop your whimpering and wheedling now. Come here.”  
  
Sanderson hooked a finger into the leather strap around Nick’s neck and tugged him forward. Caught off balance, he clutched at the arms of the chair for support, blocking Sanderson’s view of John.   
  
John bundled his clothes together, scooping up the handcuffs with them. He dropped them by the chair where they fell with a thud. Sanderson showed no sign of having noticed; his hands were all over Nick now, his excitement clearly mounting. John had never seen Sanderson quite this open with his own desires.   
  
“God, you’re ready for this, aren’t you? Turn around,” Sanderson said, his voice hoarse. “I want your brother to see your face when we’re both in you.”  
  
Nick obeyed, looking mutely at John. He raised his eyebrows a fraction and John gave a tiny nod.   
  
Sanderson yanked Nick by the hips and with no preparation began to push inside him. Nick took a deep breath and clutched at the armrests. He let out a tiny whimper as Sanderson pushed the head of his cock inside him.  
  
“Please sir, go slowly,” he said, jerking away a little. Sanderson gripped his waist tighter.   
  
“Stay still. It won’t get any easier if you’re dancing around on it,” he said.   
  
“ _Oh,_ ” Nick moaned as Sanderson pressed another inch inside him, and struggled a little.   
  
“Perhaps you are a little tender from earlier,” mused Sanderson. He looked at John. “Come here and play with your brother to distract him.”

“Is it hurting you?” John asked his brother.   
  
“He’s so big Johnnie, I can’t…” Nick said in a weak voice, but he gave the briefest of winks and John almost laughed aloud.   
  
“There now darling, let’s make you feel better,” he said instead, and began to kiss him. He felt Nick relax into the kiss in that dazed way he always did. “You can take us both, we just need to get you ready for it.”  
  
Sanderson groaned as he inched inside Nick and Nick whimpered as he was finally fully seated in Sanderson’s lap. His soft cock had begun to fill a little and his skin was beautifully flushed.   
  
Sanderson gripped Nick’s thighs from behind, lifting them, and began to thrust. Nick made a distressed sound.   
  
“Shhh,” John said to Nick, getting between Sanderson’s legs. “You can take it.” He bent his head and began to bite and suck at Nick’s nipples, stroking his hand over Nick’s cock and down to his stretched hole.   
  
“I can’t,” Nick said, arching up against John’s mouth. “Oh Johnnie, _please_ don’t.”   
  
They had agreed that Nick would protest and beg and squirm as much as he could to distract Sanderson, but John hadn’t banked on how much it would arouse and distract him too. He dragged his thoughts back to their plan.   
  
“You like this,” he managed. “Look how hard you’re getting. You want more in you, don’t you?”  
  
“I can’t…” Nick gasped. “ _Ohhh._ ” John had pushed a finger inside him and was slowly stroking it in and out.   
  
Sanderson swore and began to thrust harder. His head was thrown back against the backrest of the chair, and John’s eyes strayed to him.   
  
Under other circumstances John could only have dreamt of being fucked by someone so powerful, rich and handsome. He had a strange moment of regret that this would be the last time either of them touched this man, however miserable he had made them both. But that aside, the sight of him with and Nick lying helpless against him, his skin so golden in the low gaslight, roused him more than anything else did.   
  
“Now, Nick?” he said.   
  
Nick only moaned.   
  
Sanderson looked up, his gaze blurred with lust. He gave John the sort of long look he usually reserved for Nick, And John felt himself get harder at the want in his eyes.   
  
“Put it in me,” Nick said, and John’s gaze snapped back to his brother.   
  
“Good boy,” Mr Sanderson said, fucking into him harder. “Ask him again.”  
  
Nick arched back against Mr Sanderson’s chest, his hard cock thrusting out. Mr Sanderson pulled his legs higher, showing off Nick’s stretched hole to John.   
  
“Please Johnnie, I want you,” Nick begged in a choked voice.   
  
John took a handful of Nick’s hair and yanked him into a kiss. Grabbing his own cock he started to push inside him. Fucking _Christ_ , he’d only last seconds. Nick whined and panted at the extra stretch. John pushed in the rest of the way. Nick gave a long moan, letting his head fall back against Sanderson’s shoulder. “Oh,” he said. His hand fluttered to his stomach, pressing down. “Oh I can feel it.”  
  
“Little slut,” Sanderson said good naturedly, and twisted one of Nick’s nipples. “You’re not working hard enough. If you don’t bring us off quickly we’ll ruin you.”  
  
Nick moaned again and pushed down against John’s cock and John rocked his hips forward with a gasp. John could feel the press of muscle squeezing him, and relentless thick slide of Sanderson against the underside of his shaft, and it was too much, too intense. He shoved his hips forward and Nick’s eyes flew open.   
  
“There,” he gasped. “Oh yes, there…”  
  
John snapped his hips back and then forward again, and oh god, he was coming. Nick’s cock was flushed dark pink and jerking upright with every push John gave, as though searching for friction. Sanderson was twisting both Nick’s nipples now and John reached down and encircled Nick’s cock with a tight hand. Nick squirmed, hole squeezing down on the cocks inside him, and with a cry he began to come too.   
  
“Oh sweet _Christ_ ,” Sanderson moaned. He threw his head back and John could see his great thick cock pulsing in Nick’s hole. _Now_ he told his sluggish, sex-drugged brain. _Do it now._  
  
Pulling out of Nick he reached to where he’d hidden the handcuffs. Sanderson didn’t seem to know or care that John had pulled out and was ramming Nick down hard on him, right to the root, with both hands tight on Nick’s hips.   
  
John snapped the handcuffs to one arm of the great heavy chair. Taking a great breath, he snapped the other onto Sanderson’s wrist. Before Sanderson could react, he hauled Nick off his cock, ignoring Nick’s cry of pain.   
  
“What the…” Sanderson’s cock was still jerking and spilling seed as he sat there panting. He looked dazed. “What the fuck are you…” He tried to stand but was stopped by the short chain of the cuffs, and he fell to his knees. He gave a roar of rage.   
  
John stared at him, frozen in horror for a moment.   
  
“Johnnie, come _on_ ,” Nick said, giving his shoulder a shake. He was dressing already, much calmer than John was.   
  
“Right,” John said. He pulled on his clothes haphazardly then fumbled for the keys.   
  
“You stupid little fuckers,” Sanderson raged, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he tried to wrench free. “As if I won’t find you after this. You’ll be begging for the debt collectors to take you on again when I’m finished with you.”  
  
John had the cabinet open now and was searching frantically for their photographs. Any photographs. _Where the hell were they? Freddie had told them exactly where to look. He had seen them himself, only two days ago! Where were they now?_  
  
“I’m sorry about this sir,” Nick was saying earnestly. “I hope you understand. We could not leave our future to fate.”  
  
“Your future is fucking Newgate,” snarled Sanderson, wrenching the cuff so hard the chair lifted off the ground and landed with a thump.   
  
“Johnnie,” Nick hissed, “We must go!”  
  
“There is nothing here,” John said, a hopeless terror seizing his throat. His stomach lurched. “No photographs, no money. We have been duped.”  
  
“What?” Nick said, his eyes widening in horror. At that moment the door to the office flew open.  
  
Freddie and Lawson burst into the room. Too early – they were not supposed to arrive before he and Nick were long gone! Freddie flashed John a triumphant look and at that moment John lost the tiny bit of hope he had left.   
  
“Oh my God, Nathaniel!” Freddie shrieked, running to him. “We saw the door ajar and heard a cry, I thought something terrible had befallen you!”  
  
“Freddie,” Sanderson said, “Thank God. Get me out of this!”   
  
Freddie ran to him, cradling Sanderson’s head to his chest. “What have these ruffians done to you my darling?”  
  
“He has the keys, sir,” Lawson said, nodding at John.  
  
“Get them then,” snapped Freddie.  
  
“Nick, _run!_ ” John yelled, as Lawson advanced upon him. Nick’s terrified face was the last thing he remembered before Lawson drew his fist back, and everything went black.


	17. Melancholy Circumstances

It had been almost a week since the disastrous evening everything had all gone wrong.   
  
Lawson had knocked John out cold, at least for a few minutes. Long enough to drag him and Nick out of Sanderson’s office and be thrown into the carriage.   
  
Lawson had taken them to a small set of rooms above a grocer’s shop in Cheapside and handed Nick a set of keys, then left. Nick had spent the night crying and tending to John's swollen eye the best he could.   
  
Nothing had happened since - no word from Freddie, no bang at the door from a policeman. Nothing at all. If they’d had any money, it wouldn’t have been a bad little set-up. The rooms were spacious and partly furnished, with well-proportioned fireplaces, and there was a small paved yard outside with its own water pump which they must share with the shop, had it been open. Almost luxury. And no one had been to demand rent, at least not yet.   
  
But John had to face the fact that the last pennies of Freddie’s ten shilling note had been spent and there was no prospect of any more. How had it all come to this again? He cursed their bad luck. John had turned it over and over in his head, marvelling at their own stupidity. For some reason, though Freddie was as underhand as they came, he had seemed sincere about this plan.   
  
Tonight at least he had a solution, and that solution was himself. He was headed to Moorfields to see if he could make a few shillings doing what he should have tried all along. He knew to stick to sucking or getting the gentlemen off between his thighs - he didn’t want a dose of the clap. And since his shoulder had mended he’d be strong enough to fight anyone who tried to take anything for free.   
  
He heated some water over the meagre fire and washed himself carefully. If he looked clean and presentable he might attract a toff, perhaps. In his heart of hearts he knew that his brother could make double the money John could at this game, but he wouldn’t let him. Not ever. He got them into this bloody mess with Sanderson, and John wasn’t going to make Nick use himself to get them out of it again.   
  
He looked at his brother sleeping by the fire in their only chair and felt his heart ache within him. He leant over him and kissed him gently. Nick stirred a little and opened his eyes.   
  
“Stay there,” John said softly. “I’m going out to get us some supper.”  
  
Nick nodded, eyes sleepy. “Do we still have money left?” he said.   
  
“A bit,” John said.   
  
“How much?” Nick said. He looked John up and down and sat up, eyes sharp suddenly. “And where you going with your hair all slicked down like that, and a waistcoat on?”  
  
“I told you...”  
  
“You were sneaking out,” Nick said.   
  
“Nick,” John protested.   
  
“Are you seeing someone?” Nick said angrily. “Johnnie? That...that boy from the Lamb and Flag? I _knew_ he was flirting, I just knew it.”  
  
“I’m not seeing anyone,” John cried.   
  
“But he _was_ flirting with you,” Nick said.   
  
“I’m not bloody interested in that boy from the Lamb and Flag, I’m not bloody interested in anyone. No one but you! Nick, how could you think it?”  
  
“You always saw other people before,” Nick said, biting his lip. “I’d have to sit outside our room and listen to it when you brought those men home. I hated it. I hated hearing you.”  
  
All John’s outrage faded at once and he felt dizzy at the idea of Nick listening to him fucking.   
  
“What did I sound like?” he asked, kneeling down between Nick’s legs and kissing his neck gently.   
  
“Like…” Nick pulled John’s face towards his, kissing him sliding his tongue into John’s mouth. He pressed his slim hand between John’s legs with just the right amount of pressure, and John moaned.   
  
“That,” Nick murmured.   
  
“You do it better than anyone I’ve ever had,” John said. “And God help me, you’re all I ever want.”  
  
“Truly?” Nick said.   
  
“Truly,” John said, kissing those sweet lips again and again, feeling drugged by his want for his brother.   
  
“Then why…” Nick began. He was interrupted by a volley of sharp knocks on the door.   
  
They jumped apart. John’s heart thudded.   
  
“Nicholas, I know you’re in there,” Mr Sanderson called.   
  
Nick’s face drained of colour. “What should we do?” he hissed.   
  
“No one’s going to harm you,” came another voice. Freddie. “Open the door, won’t you?”  
  
“Don’t listen to him!” Nick said, eyes wide with fright.   
  
“Little idiots. I can call Lawson to break it down,” they heard Freddie remark.   
  
John gave Nick a despairing look. “We’re coming,” he called out. Nick put a hand to his mouth.   
  
John slid back the bolts.   
  
Sanderson strode in first with a face like a thunder cloud, followed by a sweetly smiling Freddie.   
  
“Thought we’d better just see how you were getting along,” he said.   
  
“What...what do you mean? Who are you?” John said, failing to keep the tremble out of his voice. Sanderson glowered at him.  
  
“Oh, Nathaniel knows everything, so you can drop the act,” Freddie said. “He was flattered at how far I was prepared to go, weren’t you darling?”  
  
Sanderson merely snorted. Freddie beamed at him as though it had been an endearment.   
  
“We’ve spent these last few days getting reacquainted,” he said. “I’ve barely seen the light of day all week. Of course that might have been the blindfold.”  
  
“Should have brought the gag,” Sanderson growled, and Freddie looked even more delighted with him. There were purple bruises around his neck, John noticed, and what looked like rope burns at his wrists. Lord knows what the rest of him looked like after five solid days of Sanderson. But he seemed blissfully happy.   
  
“No need; I’ll behave,” Freddie said, not looking the slightest bit contrite. “And if I don’t, then…”  
  
“What are you doing here?” Nick burst out. Freddie’s happy expression disappeared.   
  
“I see you’re still as petulant as ever,” he said icily.   
  
“With good reason, you liar,” John said.   
  
“Oh for heaven’s sake, Lawson didn’t hit you that hard,” Freddie said, rolling his eyes. “I changed my mind, that’s all. I thought it would be more dramatic if I ‘caught’ you in the middle of robbing him.”  
  
“There was nothing to rob him of!” John said, and Freddie smirked a little.   
  
“I had second thoughts as to the wisdom of allowing you and Nicholas to have blackmail material on such a number of important people,” he said. “You’re not quite the criminal masterminds you think you are. I sent Nathaniel a little anonymous warning note about those photographs and he heeded it.”  
  
“So you’re here just to mock us,” Nick said.   
  
“Well, that, and we wanted to make sure that you’re as happy with the new arrangements as we are.”  
  
“Not particularly,” John said, boldly.   
  
“That’s a long word for you, isn’t it?” Freddie said, eyeing him. “So what, _particularly_ are you unhappy about?”  
  
“I thought all this would leave us with no money worries,” John said. “Yet we are down to our last pennies, and no prospect of more.”  
  
“Your brother had a very decently paid job until you decided to extort money from me,” Sanderson said, his temper clearly wearing thin.  
  
John swallowed. “Mr Sanderson, would you have Nick back to clerk again?”  
  
“Certainly not,” Freddie said quickly, glaring. “I’ve told Nathaniel, no more little sluts in the office. Nicholas isn’t the only one I’ve had to get rid of, although he was probably the worst.”  
  
“I have reconsidered my staffing policies since Lord Bentham has returned to me,” Sanderson said, looking at Freddie fondly. “I got rid of my valet and I hadn’t even fucked him.”  
  
“He’d have let you though, the desperate whore,” Freddie said darkly.   
  
“Now, my dear,” Sanderson said.   
  
“So what are we to do?” said John, growing tired of all this. If he’d have to go out and suck cock that evening, he’d just as soon know now.   
  
“Well for heaven’s sake, why aren’t you getting on with things?” Freddie said.   
  
“Getting on with what things?” Nick said.   
  
“Look at this place! Barely a stick of furniture, and it doesn’t even look as though you’ve set foot in the shop.”  
  
“The shop isn’t open,” John said.   
  
“Well of course it isn’t, if you haven’t opened it! Good heavens, the idiocy,” Freddie said.   
  
“Why,” John said slowly. “Would _we_ open it?”


	18. A new endeavour

“The shop is yours,” said Freddie impatiently. “Didn’t I explain? Perhaps I didn’t, but you might have worked it out.”  
  
John stared at him.   
  
“Well don’t look at me like that, I didn’t know what to give you,” Freddie snapped. “I asked Lawson what would be best. You’re both too old to be apprenticed anywhere, which is the usual thing, I’m told. I thought you might be pleased by this. You…” he gestured at John with his glove. “You can heft things around with your muscles, and the slut,” he flapped the glove towards Nick. “…can serve the customers and look pretty. I didn’t think you’d need any particular amount of brains to sell soap and tea.”  
  
“Ours?” John said carefully.   
  
“Yours. Here.” Freddy looked around the room then let out an exasperated sound and pulled a dusty sheaf of papers from a shelf John had barely noticed. Freddie thrust the handful of papers at him.   
  
John looked at them uncomprehendingly, only able to pick out a word here and there. Reading and writing had never been a strength of his.   
  
Nick took them from him. “Title deeds in our names,” he said in a hushed voice. He looked up at Freddie. “And a banker’s draft for...for two hundred pounds. Sir, can it be true?”  
  
“Of course it’s true, do you think I’d be setting you up in an elaborate...oh, well I can see why you might…” Freddy trailed off. “Look. It’s all legal and above board, and all of that. Take it to a lawyer if you must. And if you think it’s so dreadful you can sell the place, I really couldn’t care.”  
  
“Thank you,” Nick said, eyes bright with tears suddenly. He looked at Freddie like a grateful puppy.   
  
“If you’re planning to come over here and slobber all over me,” Freddie said, looking at Nick with distaste, “then think again. I’ve fulfilled my end of the bargain just as you have, and gratitude is very unnecessary.”  
  
“Although _you_ can thank me if you like,” he added to John, arching a lecherous eyebrow.   
  
“None of that,” growled Sanderson, and Freddie turned to him.   
  
“I’m terribly sorry Nathaniel,” he said, not looking sorry at all. “I’m misbehaving.”  
  
“Yes, you are,” Sanderson said, pulling Freddie towards him with a hand on the back of his neck.   
  
Freddie’s eyes darkened as he let Sanderson pull him close. Sanderson thrust a hand between them and cupped Freddie between the legs.   
  
“Now remember what I said I’d do if you were disobedient,” he said, squeezing a little.  
  
“Yes,” Freddie breathed, and John could see him hardening beneath Sanderson’s hand.   
  
“Well if you don’t stop, I’ll do it to Nicholas instead,” Sanderson said.   
  
“I’ll be so obedient darling,” Freddie said, gazing up at Sanderson, his handsome face earnest. “You’ve no idea how obedient I’ll be.”  
  
Sanderson gave him a slow, chilling smile and released him.   
  
“Come here Nicholas,” he said, turning from Freddie.   
  
John heard Nick take a sharp breath in and put a comforting hand on his back. He watched his brother walk slowly over to Sanderson.   
  
“You left my employ rather abruptly,” Sanderson said. He pulled a package from the inner pocket of his coat. “Here are the wages you failed to collect, papers to say your debt to me has been repaid...and some photographs.”   
  
“Our photographs?” Nick said. “Truly sir?”  
  
“A little thank you from me to John for the marvellous time he gave me,” Freddie said. “I persuaded Nathaniel to give them to you.”  
  
Sanderson held the package out to Nick, but just as Nick reached for it, he pulled it away.  
  
“I think you owe me a little thank you first,” he said, tilting Nick’s chin up with a finger.   
  
Nick had that dazed look he always had around Sanderson. “Yes sir,” he said, looking up at him.   
  
“Anything I like?” Sanderson said.   
  
Nick looked at the package of photographs, then at John, and then back at Sanderson. “Yes, sir,” he said.   
  
Sanderson smiled, then released him.   
  
“Come here,” he said to Freddie. Freddie came closer, looking confused.   
  
“Kiss him,” Sanderson said.   
  
Freddie’s delicate skin flushed. “I shan’t,” he said, lifting his chin.   
  
“Oh, I think you shall,” Sanderson said, voice full of quiet menace. Freddie gave him a long look, then dropped his gaze and moved closer to Nick.   
  
John watched Nick and Freddie look each other over. Freddie looked furious and Nick, apprehensive. Freddie glanced imploringly over at Sanderson, but Sanderson just folded his arms and waited. Freddie turned back to Nick.   
  
“Don’t put your sluttish little tongue in my mouth,” he hissed.   
  
“I shall if I want to,” Nick shot back, his own face colouring, and he looked so beautiful John wanted to knock Freddie aside and kiss him himself.   
  
Freddie let out a small angry sound and grabbed Nick around the waist, bringing their mouths together. He kissed Nick slowly, sensually, all appearance of reluctance gone. John watched as he teased Nick’s lips apart, tongue pushing into his brother’s mouth, and Nick melting into it as he always did when kissed. They were utterly beautiful together, Nick’s gold brown hair and darker skin contrasting against Freddie’s aristocratic fairness.   
  
Nick pulled Freddie closer and kissed Freddie back, deep and eager, his thigh pressing between Freddie’s legs. He raised his hands and gently cupped Freddie’s face. Freddie was letting out small gasps, and if he was acting then John certainly couldn’t tell. John’s heart clenched within him as Freddie pulled back for a moment and gave Nick a dazed look before leaning back in and capturing his lips again.   
  
Please God, John thought, that the beautiful, wealthy Lord Bentham didn’t decide he wanted Nick for himself.   
  
“Very nice,” Sanderson said hoarsely, before walking over, yanking Freddie’s head back by the hair and dragging him away.   
  
“Now you see, _darling_ , what I was tempted with while you were away,” Sanderson said, his fingers viciously tight against Freddie’s scalp. “Keep that in mind.”  
  
“Must have only made you miss me more,” Freddie said, the sneer back on his face, but he was breathing quickly and John could see how hard he was.   
  
John stepped forward. “Nick’s papers?” he said, holding out his hand.  
  
Sanderson dragged his eyes from Freddie and looked at him. “Oh very well,” he said with a smirk, shoving them at John. “It has been fairly amusing playing with you, but all good things come to an end. I suppose Freddie was right, you _had_ begun to bore me.”  
  
He turned back to Freddie, putting an arm around him. “Come along then,” he said. “Those items I ordered from the leatherworks at Bermondsey arrived this morning, and I’m very much looking forward to putting them to use.”  
  
Freddie gave a delighted smile and kissed him.   
  
Sanderson nodded to Nick and John. “Stay out of trouble, and stay away from me,” he said.   
  
“Yes, sir,” Nick said. “Thank you, sir. If there’s ever anything…”  
  
“Hmm,” Sanderson said thoughtfully. “Sometimes, Lord Bentham and I like to throw parties. And the two of you would make an interesting addition. You may hear from us again yet.”  
  
“That won’t be until Christmas at least,” Freddie said, tugging Sanderson towards the door. “Now _do_ come on Nathaniel, you can’t make promises like you did earlier then make a chap wait all day.”  
  
“You’ll wait as long as I tell you to wait,” Sanderson said, shoving the door open and leaving without a backwards glance. Freddie’s thrilled laugh could be heard all the way down the stairwell.   
  
“Oh Johnnie,” Nick said, taking John around the waist and swinging him around with delight.   
  
“Well,” John said, trying to get his spinning head straight. “I think…I do believe we might be alright.” Free, independent and solvent. Except for the small issue of attending Mr Sanderson’s party. But how bad could an occasional invitation to a party be?   
  
“Just think. _Mallory Brothers: Grocers and Confectioners_ ,” Nick said, kissing him.   
  
“Confectioners indeed?” John said, kissing him back, deeply enough that it left Nick sighing.   
  
“Please?” he said, using his pretty eyes to the best of his ability.   
  
“Can’t ever say no to you when you beg me for sweets,” John said. “Never could, our whole lives.” Their whole lives he’d been trying to take care of him, and now at last, his darling brother would be taken care of always.   
  
“That’s not all I plan to beg for,” Nick said, with a saucy little smile, and led John to bed.


End file.
